


Resentment

by Meowzy



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzy/pseuds/Meowzy
Summary: Ten years after the reunification of the worlds, Yuan finally realizes just how much of an impact Kratos's departure had on him. Lloyd attempts to help him, but people don't change easily and trouble brews on Derris-Kharlan. In the end, seraphim are only flawed mortals. In the end, there is only resentment.
Relationships: Kratos Aurion & Yuan Ka-Fai, Kratos Aurion/Yuan Ka-Fai, Lloyd Irving & Yuan Ka-Fai
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness, this fic sure comes with a 'behind the scenes' story. In May 2012, I was challenged to write a one-shot about Yuan and Lloyd. That one-shot became a two-shot and over the course of seven years, was expanded into a full story. (Yes, you read that right. I worked on this for SEVEN YEARS.) I recently cleaned up all the chapters a bit in terms of grammar and dialogue, because I felt it would be a waste not to upload this to my AO3 account.
> 
> In writing this story, I issued several challenges to myself. The first was to expand upon Yuan's character and his dynamic with Lloyd. The second was to integrate tidbits from various obscure Tales of Phantasia sources, so as to make the transition from DotNW's ending to ToP's beginning more natural. Narikiri Dungeon, the Dhaos novel, you name it. The third challenge was the worst of all: to weasel my way into a believable Kratos/Yuan relationship. (As I write this, I utter a bitter laugh.) 
> 
> Now, I will issue a warning. The one thing I failed to clean up (for obvious reasons) was the actual plot. Bearing in mind that the first few chapters are now over eight years old, some may note that there are quite a few tropes littered through them. Much as I tried to write these rigid characters as believably as possible and motivate every single emotion, it wouldn't be a hurt/comfort fic without some sharp jabs of the feels stick.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy, even as I apologize for what lies ahead.

Time was flowing fast- far too fast for Yuan's liking. One moment, he had learned of Mithos's death, the next he was already out gathering information about the recently-awakened Ratatosk, and the next he was back to a dreary routine of keeping watch over the World Tree. For a seraph, these sort of incidents were like the blink of an eye in a lifetime. Lloyd was twenty eight now. The same age Kratos was when he stopped his metabolism, Yuan realized vaguely, before brushing such thoughts off again. Remembering his old friends was too painful.  
  
When he'd heard of Kratos's decision to leave with Derris-Kharlan, he hadn't thought much of it. He certainly hadn't _agreed_ with it, but he knew he couldn't change Kratos's mind, so he'd given the man his blessing with some reluctance. It wasn't until a few years had passed, when all communications with Derris-Kharlan had been broken off for a while, that Yuan had realized just what sort of life he'd been condemned to without any of his companions to turn to. He had no one to ask for advice and no one to confide in. Silence pressed upon him more often than not. Martel, the spirit who bore his fiancée's name and face, only rarely spoke to him. With the tree at such a young age, she had to conserve her energy and lay dormant most of the time. It was good thing she wasn't talkative, Yuan concluded, as he would have to tell himself over and over that no matter the resemblance, she was not the love he'd lost.  
  
In this new age, there was only Yuan and a young, lifeless tree, hidden in a remote location away from prying eyes.  
  
And on occasion, there was Lloyd. All the other heroes of World Unification had their own lives and duties to tend to. They hardly ever paid a visit to the tree's domain. Lloyd was the only one who would stop by at least once a month to assess the situation. Yuan figured it must've been because a promise had been made to Martel. While _he_ may have been given the title of Guardian, it was Lloyd who'd vowed to look after the tree and ensure it wouldn't wither. A meaningless gesture in his opinion, as Lloyd could only muster about fifty more years of that before it was over. Eternal Swordsman was a hollow title; Lloyd's life was but the blink of an eye to eternity. In the end, the burden fell on Yuan.  
  
Even with weeks flowing by as fast as they did, he knew he would be stuck here for so long, time would lose its meaning altogether.  
  
\-----  
  
"You look like you haven't slept in days."  
  
He glanced up at Lloyd, eyebrows contracting into a sort of unimpressed frown at that remark. In the physical sense, Kratos's son had changed over the past ten years. His hair had grown a bit longer, tied back into a short ponytail while messy bangs framed his face. The suspenders had finally been discarded, his pants now being held up by a thick leather belt. The bright red color in his shirt was a thing of the past as well, only to be replaced by a more subtle ruby shade. However, deep down, it was still the same boy who'd reunited the two worlds on a stubborn whim.  
  
"I _haven't_ slept in days," he responded simply.  
  
Hell, he hadn't had a good night's sleep in _months_. It'd just been getting worse and worse. He could tinker with the properties of his Cruxis Crystal a bit to minimize the damage on his body, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Sleep was needed for a being to sort out their thoughts and impressions. Not to mention, sleep was a wonderful escape from the harsh reality. Insomnia was the worst sort of illness that Yuan could suffer from.  
  
Lloyd shuffled his feet for a moment. Years of experience had taught him how short Yuan could be and how little he wanted to discuss his own life, meaning there was no point in prying. Not that the notion hadn't needed to be hammered in with force, of course. Yuan would insist that it was none of Lloyd's business and, in time, it seemed Lloyd had come to accept that to some degree. Instead of pressing the matter, he just took a seat in the grass beside Yuan and glanced up at the sky.  
  
"... There's something off about my Rheaird," Lloyd piped up after a moment of silence. "It keeps drifting to the left, so I have to adjust my steering. Do you think you could take a look at it? I'd do it myself, but... Magitechnology really isn't my thing."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Yuan replied, though it was more out of reflex than with the actual motivation to fix the Rheaird.  
  
He massaged his heavy eyelids with the tips of his fingers for a moment, then glanced up at the sky as well. The sun was already setting and the first stars of night could be seen. He faintly remembered Kratos's advice to count them when he couldn't sleep. While a human's life was too short to count them all, Yuan was sure he could manage it if he really tried. That only made him feel even more miserable.  
  
Lloyd seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as he broke the silence again. "Do you think he'll ever come back?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dad, I mean. When he's done doing what he has to do on Derris-Kharlan... Would he come back?" Lloyd paused, running a quick hand through his hair. "I mean... The comet _cycles_ , right? So in ninety years or so, it'll be back here."  
  
"... He won't come back." Yuan was surprised at how bitter his voice sounded, but he continued to glance up at the sky with determination even as he realized Lloyd was peering right at him.  
  
"But this is his home."  
  
"He _can't_ come back. Even when the comet passes by this world, he's stuck up there."  
  
Among other things Yuan kept telling himself, there was the insistence that Kratos Aurion was gone. Like Mithos and Martel, he may just as well have been dead. When the man had made the decision to travel with Derris-Kharlan, it was permanent and they'd both known that. They'd both agreed to it and said their farewells.  
  
"There's always a _way_ , Yuan." Lloyd pulled his knees up to his chest, turning his gaze back up to the sky. "Maybe we can reunite the Eternal Sword again. Or... find some other way to link the comet to Aselia again, just for a little bit."  
  
"No."  
  
"If we just try hard enough, we can-"  
  
" _No_ , Lloyd! Damn it all!" Before his mind had even processed he was doing it, Yuan had jumped to his feet to glare down at the other man. "Open your ears already! Kratos is _gone_! He made the decision to leave of his own free will and he is _not_ coming back!"  
  
He'd told himself this so many times, but shouting it only made it that much more _real_. His closest friend was gone forever. Everyone Yuan had known and cared about had left him. While Martel and Mithos hadn't done so willingly, he was being hit with a violent surge of anger that Kratos had _chosen_ that fate for himself. Kratos had left everything behind- not just his friend, but his own _son_ \- his _family_. Something that Yuan had dreamed of having for an eternity, but never got the chance to conceive. The injustice of it all was stabbing at his chest, making it hard to breathe, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten so _angry_.  
  
"Yuan..." The shock was evident in Lloyd's eyes, but Yuan couldn't get himself to calm down. He couldn't make it stop anymore. It was white hot, raw emotion and it was overwhelming him.  
  
"That selfish bastard condemned himself to a life of solitude and forfeited everything he had for the sake of hollow _redemption_! He's nothing but a coward! If I could go back, I would've stopped him! I would've forced him to stay for you, or even gone in his stead, but I... I wasn't _thinking_ , and I just let him-"  
  
He broke off harshly when he felt something running down his face and raised a hand to his cheek, only to find it moist. That's when he realized the strong emotion that was ripping through him wasn't limited to anger. Even after all this, he was actually _mourning_ the loss of a fool like Kratos. The fact that his friend had _chosen_ to part ways with him forever felt like a jab to the gut, a personal insult. He'd lost everything and he was just so damned _alone_.  
  
His eyes squeezed shut firmly and his thoughts reeling, he wasn't aware Lloyd had gotten to his feet until the other man tried to pull him into a hug. Yuan backed away without a moment's hesitation, shoving Lloyd off him with one fierce thrust of his arm. "I don't _need_ your pity!"  
  
The last thing he wanted was for Kratos's son to feel sorry for him. Kratos's son, who was left in his care just like everything else. Lloyd was just another responsibility to shoulder and Yuan was being overwhelmed by sudden resentment towards his old friend- Resentment he'd never realized was there. He'd always held a dislike towards Kratos, yet he'd never quite figured out the root of it all. Not until this very moment.  
  
"It's not pity. I..." There was a moment of hesitation, then Yuan felt a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't be bothered to shake it off, this time. "I feel the same way."  
  
He didn't respond. He only barely processed what Lloyd was even saying to him. He just stood rooted to the spot, eyes shut to try and block everything out. Tears were still rolling down his face and he wished they wouldn't. He couldn't cry. He _never_ cried. Men didn't do that.  
  
"He's... He's my _dad_. He was supposed to care about me. After he found out I was still alive- After everything we accomplished together, I thought he'd want to be my father. Have a place in my life, you know? But he ran. It's like I hardly got to know him at all."  
  
Yuan felt the hand squeeze his shoulder more tightly and realized that Lloyd must've held the same sort of resentment. The same feelings of abandonment. He wished he could give some kind of response, but he feared his voice might not come out right if he tried, so he decided not to risk it.  
  
"But... you know what? I think he misses us too." Lloyd was starting to sound a bit nasal himself. "I think if he were given the chance to come back, he'd take it. That's why we have to keep hoping."  
  
The realist inside Yuan made him shake his head. He couldn't _hope_ for something like that. It'd just drive him mad to think of what _might_ one day happen. He wasn't even sure whether he wanted to see Kratos again in the first place, or what he'd say if that day ever came.  
  
Lloyd gave a loud sniff and finally released Yuan's shoulder, taking a step back. "How about you come stay with me for a while? You don't need to stick by the tree every minute of every day. It's almost as tall as I am and there's a barrier that's supposed to keep people away, right?"  
  
"... No." The first word Yuan could manage in minutes, and it was this.  
  
"Come on. It'll do you some good to get out of here. Anyone would go crazy being stuck here for so long."  
  
Yuan rubbed at his burning eyes with the back of his hand before fixing Lloyd with a bit of a glare. "Are you implying I've lost my mind?"  
  
"See, _that's_ more like the Yuan I know." Lloyd smirked and gave the other man a quick pat on the back, earning himself another fierce scowl. "Just for a couple days. Then you can come back here if you want and I won't bother you about it anymore."  
  
Yuan's gaze fell on the World Tree, then returned to Lloyd. For a moment- just the _briefest_ of seconds, he thought he was looking at Kratos instead. Those same fierce eyes, the same features, the same physical demeanor... But then he blinked and the notion vanished. He had to remind himself that just like the Summon Spirit who bore his fiancée's face, this was not one of his old friends. Those three would never come back.  
  
Perhaps he _was_ losing his mind.  
  
After another moment's silence, he finally gave a stiff nod and followed Lloyd to his Rheaird.

\-----

Work was never done. Even after ten years, Kratos was still moving across Derris-Kharlan to undo the damage that Cruxis had done. Welgaia had been the biggest chore- hell, he _still_ wasn't finished with that place. He'd purge one area of Exspheres, dump them, move elsewhere for a while and then return to Welgaia later to tackle the next block of buildings. It wasn't only Exspheres he'd uncovered, either. The things Mithos had decided to put into storage were mindboggling. Malicious spellbooks, books detailing the _true_ history of the Kharlan war, weapons, artifacts that seemed to have been touched by demons from Niflheim...  
  
This was exactly why Kratos had decided to travel with Derris-Kharlan- To dispose of all these harmful materials before they fell into the wrong hands.  
  
It was exhausting work, but above all, it was _lonely_. There were more than enough lifeless beings scattered across the comet, yet they weren't company. They were devoid of emotions and individuality. No unique traits, no likes or dislikes... Just as Mithos had wanted, they were all the exact same empty being. They obeyed Kratos's orders and offered conversation, though none of it was sincere. If they truly did have the ability to regain themselves, it would take centuries, if not millennia.  
  
Kratos had no idea whether he would live to see that day. He had damned himself to this fate and he would continue his hard work for as long as his body would allow, but he couldn't predict just how long that would be. The more time passed, the more Kratos came to realize just what sort of a fate he had resigned himself to. He'd never been truly alone like this. There had always been someone by his side- someone he was working _for_. From Princess Soleille to Mithos, to Anna, to Lloyd...  
  
Now, he had no one to turn to anymore and everything seemed foreign. He found himself longing for true companionship, missing the breaths of fresh air that weren't present on the comet and wondering what would become of his old home after he'd left it. His dreams slowly became plagued with nightmares and at times he would spend hours on end staring up at the dark sky, trying his hardest to think of anything but the things he missed.  
  
\-----  
  
It had been another one of those nights. He had slept and he had dreamt. He'd dreamt of Anna and the day she gave birth. He'd remembered how it felt to be a father, how proud he'd been to hold his son for the first time. Not even a student like Mithos could compare to his own child. It was a warm, content feeling. And then he'd lost it all. He'd awoken sharply, tears streaming down his face and a sharp pain in his chest. There'd been no one around to see, yet that didn't make it any less shameful.  
  
He'd returned to Welgaia and it was time to clear out another one of Cruxis's storages. This one was close to Vinheim- a dwarven workshop. It was bound to be filled with an assortment of things Kratos wasn't looking forward to uncovering. The local residents could help gather the materials, so long as they were given clear instructions on what to do, but Kratos wanted to destroy and discard it all himself. He wanted to be absolutely certain that no traces were left.  
  
There was a moment of hesitation before Kratos forced the doors open. The dwarves had stopped serving Cruxis long before the organization itself was shut down and after so many years of disuse, the magitechnology in their workshop refused to function properly. The place was cold, dim and as dusty as things could get in Derris-Kharlan. He gave the lifeless beings the same order he always gave them: to gather everything related to Cruxis and take it outside, so he could sort through it himself. If they were to encounter anything that seemed suspicious, they were not to touch it and inform Kratos of its whereabouts instead.  
  
He swerved through the piles of technology in disrepair and the abandoned tools as he tried to hunt down anything that seemed out of the ordinary. He didn't want to be in close proximity to the other angels as they worked. Over time, their presence had come to frustrate him more than anything else. He'd much rather seclude himself and work on his own.  
  
A metal door in the second floor of the basement caught his interest. It was locked down and secured with a passcode, but Kratos still had the authority to override all these protocols. He had yet to find a door that was so secure only Yggdrasill himself could have opened it, and this one was no different. After entering a few quick codes, the door slid open with a hiss and a reluctant creaking of the internal mechanisms. The room that lay beyond was pitch-black, though even that was remedied with a quick flick of a switch.  
  
At first glance, it was just another workshop, but then Kratos's gaze fell on a familiar sight and his eyes widened in shock. There, in a large case that was half glass, half metal, stood two bodies. Bodies of himself and... _Yuan_.  
  
Automated vessels, he concluded after the initial, mind-numbing surprise had died down. He'd forgotten that these things even existed. Yggdrasill had ordered the dwarves to create them, as fail-safes of a sort. That way, if something were to happen to their bodies, they would still have a vessel to turn to. The theory behind it was sound, though after seeing what happened when they'd tried to use this method to host Martel's soul, the automated vessels were locked away without a second thought. Yet... There was meant to be a third. Perhaps this was the method Mithos had used to return to his 'body' after his initial defeat at Lloyd's hands in the Tower of Salvation.  
  
After taking a steadying breath, he approached the vessels for a closer inspection. It was eerie just how lifelike they were. They were dressed in very simple, casual attire- Yuan's vessel didn't even have its hair tied back. Their heads were drooping forward and their eyes were closed, almost as if they were sleeping. Would Kratos have to dispose of these things as well? Destroying a physical copy of himself was quite the disturbing forecast.  
  
His eyes fell on Yuan's duplicate and the sharp pain of loneliness jabbed at his chest again. How was his old friend doing after all this time? Was he standing by Lloyd's side, where Kratos could not be? What would he say if he could see Kratos now?  
  
He wasn't sure what made him do it. Perhaps it was just idle curiosity, or perhaps there was a small glimmer of hope that he'd get the answers he wanted. All he knew was that a few moments later, he'd opened the glass case and reached out a hand towards Yuan's vessel. Would it still work after all this time? There was only one way to find out.  
  
It wouldn't have Yuan's memories, nor even his basic personality, but anything would be better than those damned lifeless angels. He entered the activation sequence and waited.  
  
The fingers twitched gently by the vessel's sides. The head nodded upwards and then downwards again. Dark green eyes began to open. And then... A loud, foreboding crackling sound. The power source broke and lightning mana escaped from the vessel's back, the currents running across the body and frying the inner circuitry before Kratos had time to shut it down again. The knees buckled and the duplicate fell forward. His reflexes kicked in despite better judgment and he managed to catch it in his arms just before it hit the ground.  
  
He'd expected the vessel would malfunction, but he hadn't expected the empty feeling that came with it. He was disappointed- no, even worse. He _mourned_ this opportunity. It wouldn't have been the real Yuan, yet he felt as if he'd lost his old friend all over again. A deep sadness washed over him as he sank to his knees, still holding the vessel close to his chest. Why did things have to end up like this? Why couldn't he have decent company, if only for a brief moment?  
  
Tears began to stream down his face again. He couldn't bring himself to stop them, so instead he buried his face in the crook of the vessel's neck, pressing up against locks of blue hair that were so painfully familiar. Loud sobs escaped him and he could feel his entire body was beginning to shake.  
  
When Origin's seal was released, he'd claimed that he'd learned not to rely on others, but that wasn't entirely true. Living his life alone was a frightening prospect. It was far more difficult to cope with than he'd hoped. Part of him knew that he deserved this sort of pain. That he'd done so much wrong with his life, he didn't deserve to live the rest of it peacefully. More than anything, he wanted to earn his redemption, but this... This pitiful life he was forced to lead... Perhaps he should've heeded Lloyd's advice and searched for another way when he had the chance. He should've accepted any option that would've prevented him from being stuck here, while still doing the work he was meant to do.  
  
He'd chosen this path for a reason. However, he resented it. He resented it more than he could bear. The worst part was that there was no escape. He'd doomed himself to this loneliness and now he would have to live with it.  
  
  
**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed. A week since Lloyd had invited Yuan to stay in his house. Much as he avoided Lloyd himself, he had to admit that it was a pleasant change of scenery. It was two stories tall and while compact, it had plenty of rooms. An ideal home that Lloyd had built for himself, north of the mountain range surrounding the World Tree. There was hardly any sound but the calming splash of the stream running right past the house and the birds living in the trees of the forest.  
  
For most of the time Yuan spent there, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. There was no constant paranoia that someone might invade his terrain to cause irreparable harm to the World Tree and the world in turn. No constant pressure to keep up appearances in the off chance that Martel might be watching him. No constant feeling of being _trapped_ by his duty.  
  
Though, the moment he let his guard down too much, the worry would set in. Worry that someone take advantage of his absence to attack. That Martel could be crying out for him at that very moment and he'd be none the wiser. It'd cause a sort of anxiety to form inside his chest, though as much as he wanted to leave the house, he couldn't even bring himself to leave the guest room.  
  
Of course, Lloyd now took daily trips to Yggdrasill as a precaution. Yuan could tell that it was more for his peace of mind than the tree's safety. That these trips were made for the sole purpose of returning home to assure Yuan that everything was just fine. He appreciated the gesture, yet at the same time it made him feel like Lloyd wasn't taking his feelings seriously at all. He was glad to have company, yet at the same time he despised how dependant he was of a situation that was only temporary. He wanted to leave, yet at the same time he wanted to stay.  
  
The indecisiveness made things so much worse.  
  
\-----  
  
On the morning of the eighth day, Yuan managed to drag himself down to the kitchen. He was fully dressed and ready to leave at a moment's notice, even though he hadn't decided whether he _would_ leave today. Part of him was hoping Lloyd would finally just _tell_ him to leave and make that decision for him. No such luck. Lloyd was as hospitable as ever. He served Yuan breakfast, joined him at the table and started yammering on about some fish he'd caught in the stream beside the house that morning.  
  
Yuan was only barely listening. Despite the change of environment and absence of responsibilities, his insomnia had remained. He could catch three hours of sleep a night if he was lucky. If he was even luckier, there wouldn't be any nightmares, though he never had been such a fortunate soul.  
  
Speaking of fortunate souls... Lloyd apparently sensed her coming before Yuan did, as the boy raised his head to glance at the door. A few moments later, there was a knock and a familiar voice calling.  
  
“Lloooyd! Are you home yet?”  
  
The scrape of a chair, the rhythmic tapping of footsteps, the chink of the door and there she was. Colette Brunel had already been similar to Martel in her younger years, but now that she was in her mid twenties, it had only become more pronounced. The same gentle features, the same sort of long, flowing hair... Yuan found he had to look away after a few seconds, to avoid more painful memories being stirred.  
  
“Hey Colette!” Lloyd stepped aside, fully expecting the girl to enter his house. And she did.  
  
“Hey. I just stopped by to-” she broke off mid-sentence as her gaze fell on Yuan. He was sure there was some evident surprise on her features, though he still couldn't bring himself to look up at her. “Ooh, Yuan. It's been too long.”  
  
“Over two years,” he replied curtly.  
  
“And you still haven't changed one bit.”  
  
It was meant to be a light tease and Yuan could tell she meant no harm by it. Still, he frowned in response and glanced up at her for a moment, watching her expression. There was no childish innocence there. Only a kind, warm smile which he did not return. A painful silence followed, which Lloyd decided to break.  
  
“Yuan's... taking a holiday for the first time in ten years. It'll do him some good, don't you think?”  
  
“Oh, yes. Everyone could use a break now and again. Which reminds me!” Colette moved closer to the table, clapping her hands together. “I'm celebrating my birthday next week.”  
  
Lloyd raised a hand to his forehead, then ran it through his hair. At first it seemed like an odd move to Yuan, until he realized it was a nervous reflex, or perhaps a bad cover for his look of surprise. Lloyd had clearly forgotten that his friend's birthday was coming up. If Colette had noticed the same thing, she didn't comment on it.  
  
“Time sure does fly. You're turning twenty-seven, right?” Lloyd asked.  
  
“That's right! Can you believe it? It's been almost eleven years since that day I began the Journey of Regeneration.”  
  
“And almost eleven years since I first met Yuan, too,” Lloyd mused aloud. The half-elf in question gave no response, so he continued after a few seconds of silence. “Man, I remember it like it was yesterday! It was in Triet base. I wasn't exactly given a warm welcome.”  
  
Much like Lloyd claimed to do, Yuan also remembered it as if it were yesterday. While the brunet could speak of the incident with such fond amusement, _he_ felt very different when he thought back to that day.  
  
“You struck down several of my soldiers, hacked my security systems and barged into my office unannounced,” Yuan spoke, trying to show as much annoyance as possible through his tone of voice.  
  
“Ohhh. That's right, I did!” Lloyd chuckled, leaning against the kitchen table. “So what would you have done if I _hadn't_ broken out of the cell?”  
  
“Used you as leverage for Origin's Seal, of course. Though, it would've been in vain. Kratos wouldn't have released the seal for you or me. He only did it when _he_ thought the time was right.”  
  
Another silence followed. A long, painful one. Bitter as Yuan may have sounded and harsh as it may have been for Lloyd to hear, it was the truth. Kratos had not been persuaded by Yuan's pleas, nor Yuan's threats, nor the attempt on Lloyd's life. Not until his son had shown him the light had Kratos realized what needed to be done.  
  
“S-So anyway...” Colette forced a very convincing smile onto her face. “Next Tuesday, my house. I expect you both to be there!”  
  
Yuan frowned. “By _both_ , you mean...”  
  
“Both of you, of course! I'd like it if you could come, Yuan. I'm sure everyone's curious about what you've been up to.”  
  
“Don't be ridiculous. They knew where to find me. None of them have shown their faces in years.”  
  
Colette and Lloyd exchanged an awkward glance that they didn't even bother to hide, but the girl was not deterred by his somewhat passive aggressive insult. “They've just been busy, that's all. That's why you should come to the party! It's a good excuse for us all to get together again.”  
  
At this point, Yuan decided to bite back his next retort and give up on his breakfast. He pushed himself to his feet without another word and headed for the stairs, ignoring Lloyd's protest. As much as he could've forced himself to tolerate their company for a bit longer, he just wasn't in the mood for this. It was best if he retreated now before he soured the atmosphere even further.  
  
He lay down on his bed and the conversation continued downstairs. He could easily overhear it if he strained his ears, but decided to just block it out instead. He had the nasty suspicion they were gossiping about him and he had no interest in their opinions.  
  
He didn't need company. He didn't need to attend parties and spend time with people who didn't truly care for him. They were Lloyd's friends, not his. _His_ friends were gone.  
  
... Or were they? As he stared up at the ceiling, he remembered the night he arrived at Lloyd's home last week. A stable next to the house. He hadn't gone out since then, but he should've realized. How could he forget?  
  
He got up from the bed again and moved over to the window to yank it open. The fresh air was a relief after more than a week of being cooped up inside. His wings came to being on his back and he jumped. There were a few seconds of what felt like ultimate freedom, then he touched down nimbly in the grass below. Lloyd and Colette were still talking in the house, unaware that Yuan had just left it.  
  
Dirt crunched beneath his feet as he made his way over to the stable. There was no door, allowing its owner freedom whenever he wished. However, when Yuan peered inside, he found Noishe curled up in a corner, in a thick nest of straw and hay. A strong, musty scent hung inside the walls of the stable. Apparently, Lloyd didn't truly understand the concept of _cleaning_ his pet's home every now and again.  
  
The Protozoan stirred and raised his head when Yuan entered the stable, giving a whine in greeting. However, he didn't rise to his feet and remained in his comfortable little nest. That suited Yuan just fine. He took a seat beside Noishe, leaning his back against the wall and closing his eyes. Not long after, he felt the beast's head come to rest on his lap. No objections came from Yuan, who raised a hand to pet him absentmindedly.  
  
Kratos was gone, Mithos was gone, Martel was gone... Yuan was all that remained of the Kharlan Heroes, but so was Noishe. He'd never truly cared for the Protozoan, yet he'd never protested his presence either. In exchange, Noishe had never actively sought out the half-elf's affection, nor had he shied away from it on those rare days when Yuan had needed company that _didn't_ talk back to him. It was a relationship of mutual tolerance and peaceful silences.  
  
It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when Yuan felt himself doze off. He didn't fight it, instead allowing the slumber to wash over him. It didn't matter to him what this might look like to anyone else. At this point, he could honestly care less.  
  
His sleep was calm and soothing for the first time in a year. No dreams to disturb him, no constant waking every other minute. Sadly, it was cut short after no more than an hour, when Lloyd came looking for him and told him off for sleeping when it was barely noon. Surely, this was a severe case of the pot and the kettle.  
  
Yuan grumbled and cursed, leaving the stable with extreme reluctance. However, he knew it was no use to try and go back to sleep now. Lloyd had ruined the calm, once again sending waves of frustration through Yuan's mind. Colette had gone home and, yes, she still fully expected him to attend her party. As much as he detested the notion and continued to protest vocally, there was a small part of him that actually considered going.  
  
He hated himself for it.

\-----

“You know, you still haven't looked at my Rheaird.”  
  
“Hm?” Yuan looked up from his lunch, vaguely confused. Now that Lloyd mentioned it, he did have a faint memory of the man telling him something about his Rheaird, but he couldn't remember when or what.  
  
“There's something wrong with the steering, remember? It drifts to the left.”  
  
“You've been using it every day for almost two weeks now. Why didn't you bring this up sooner?”  
  
Lloyd shrugged. “It's not that big a deal. I've managed to cope, but it's getting a little annoying.”  
  
There was a moment of silence before Yuan put his fork down. He'd still been listlessly prodding at his food long after Lloyd had finished, if only to pretend he was interested in eating. Now, he decided to give up on it and pushed himself to his feet. “Come on.”  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“Outside, of course. I'll show you how to fix it so you won't have to bother me next time it happens.” He started on a path towards the door as Lloyd got to his feet behind him. A sudden realization hit him just as his fingers curled around the handle. “Bring some tools.”  
  
\---  
  
It'd been quite a few years since Yuan had last repaired anything of magitechnology. He'd had little need to use his own Rheaird, as he hardly traveled anymore and there wasn't much other magitechnology to be found. However, he'd always had a liking for tinkering with it. As he was now, lying on his back underneath Lloyd's Rheaird and tightening a few screws, that liking was rekindled again.  
  
He'd fixed not only the problem with the steering, but a few other faults as well. It was clear that the owner had no knack for working with magitechnology and no desire to keep it in one piece. Scratches, dents, bits that were starting to become detached in the engine... Honestly, he was surprised that drifting to the left was the worst problem Lloyd had encountered with it. This was a disaster waiting to happen.  
  
Lloyd sat next to him as he worked, watching Yuan's actions and occasionally questioning them. It seemed that despite his tendency for neglect, the man was at least willing to learn more about how to keep his Rheaird in shape and for that, Yuan was grateful. Eventually, he found himself explaining the specifics of the engine and how it drew mana from its surroundings. He could tell that most of it went straight over Lloyd's head, but a few shreds managed to stick.  
  
Step by step, he was actually teaching Kratos's son. Somehow, it made him feel more at ease. Perhaps it was because he was passing his knowledge on to someone else instead of letting it go to waste with himself. Or perhaps it was because while Lloyd had bested him in a lot of ways, there was still one thing Yuan was better at.  
  
“Are you sure you won't come to Colette's party tonight?”  
  
The question had come as a surprise and snapped Yuan out of all thoughts related to magitechnology. Colette's party... That was tonight? He moved out from beneath the Rheaird and sat up to fix Lloyd with a scrutinizing stare, but the man's expression was sincere. For some reason, he honestly wanted Yuan to attend.  
  
“I don't see why I should.” He twirled the screwdriver he was holding between his fingers. “You can go for the both of us. You're closest to her anyway.”  
  
“I... guess.” Lloyd ran a hand through his hair, frowning. “I wouldn't say I'm the closest person to her, now. Not anymore.”  
  
Yuan was reminded of the fact that shortly after the Ratatosk incident, Lloyd and Colette had dated. It was the sort of thing that had been rubbed in his face back then, whenever they came to visit the World Tree. However, after a certain amount of time, his girlfriend had stopped joining Lloyd on these visits. Yuan had never asked, but he could only assume that the relationship had ended. It was really none of his business either way.  
  
“So, what, you're thinking of turning down the invitation as well? You two are still childhood friends, aren't you?”  
  
“Of course I'm gonna go! I'm just saying Colette's got loads of close friends.”  
  
Yuan sighed, shaking his head. “Either way, I'm staying here. She only came over here to invite you.”  
  
“She invited you too,” Lloyd argued fiercely.  
  
“Because I happened to be here. It's called common courtesy. If I'd been by the tree where I belong, she wouldn't have bothered to seek me out.”  
  
With that, Yuan moved himself back underneath the Rheaird to return his attention to the worn landing gear. He had better things to do than to consider this matter further. Beside him, there was a crunching sound as Lloyd got to his feet.  
  
“An invitation is an invitation! Besides, it's no wonder Colette wouldn't come find you if you keep insisting nobody wants your company.”  
  
The sound of footsteps and the slam of the front door. Now Yuan was left wondering if it was true; If he'd started a cycle by constantly refusing the friendship of Lloyd and his companions.  
  
\------  
  
That evening, Lloyd left for the party by himself, as planned, while Yuan remained shut in his temporary room. No matter how he tried, he couldn't shake the notion that'd been given to him earlier. That he was lonely because he kept driving people away. He mulled on it for another hour before finally acting on his doubts.  
  
He took his own Rheaird and flew to Iselia, to Colette's house. The lights were on downstairs and the buzz of good-humored, inaudible conversations reached his ears. Yuan kept his distance, but he fixed his gaze on the living room window. And there they all were.  
  
Colette herself was just handing a drink to Raine, whose hair had lengthened to just past her shoulders over the years. Thanks to her elven blood, she looked about as young as Yuan remembered her. Genis stood beside her, though he was less recognizable. The boy had grown to be taller than his sister. Regal had aged as well, but in a flattering manner. Grey streaks were visible in his blue hair, which was now considerably shorter. He was apparently sharing a witty anecdote with Lloyd and Zelos, the latter roaring with laughter. Tethe'alla's former Chosen had hardly changed, from what Yuan could tell. The same hair, the same facial features, the same sense of fashion… It took him a few moments to place the woman beside Regal. Now in her early twenties, Presea's hair was tied back in a bun and she was wearing a neat business-like suit. It seemed like she was doing well for herself within the Lezareno company. Finally, there was Sheena in a corner, holding a small child to her chest while another young girl with flaming red hair stood by her side, tugging at her sleeve. That's right, she'd married Zelos, hadn't she? Another woman came walking into Yuan's view and much like Presea, it took him a few moments to place her. Dirty blonde hair, a cheerful smirk… It was Emil's friend, Marta. She picked Sheena's daughter up from the ground and rocked her in her arms, much to her mother's relief.  
  
They all looked like they were having the time of their life, being in each other's company. Where did Yuan fit in their group? Where had _he_ been, while they were traveling together, protecting one another? Hidden away in his Renegade base, plotting how to assassinate an important member of their group- how to best corner Lloyd and use him to blackmail Kratos. He'd never been one of them. It wasn't him they were hoping to see.  
  
It would be Kratos. Kratos was their final companion, the one who'd been by their side for a great portion of their journey. It should've been him, standing where Yuan was standing now. Once again, he found himself resenting his old companion for giving all this up. He had friends who would welcome him with open arms to a party like this- welcome him like _family_.  
  
Yuan couldn't bring himself to move toward the door. Much as he'd always been convinced he could care less about the opinions of other people, at this very moment he _feared_ the remarks that would come his way if he were to enter the house. He was being overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, just as he'd been when Lloyd came to see him two weeks earlier. Anger, sadness, guilt... It was all striking at him at the same time. All he could do was turn away from the lights of the party and face the darkness of the gritty path that would take him out the village instead. The sooner he left, the better.  
  
Just as he was about to take his first step, he heard the door open behind him and a painfully familiar voice spoke up.  
  
“Yuan, you came!” Lloyd came striding up beside him and Yuan could see the relieved smile on his face even through the darkness.  
  
“I was just leaving.”  
  
“Huh? Come on, there's still plenty of food left! And Regal was just about to tell us about this new product that-”  
  
“I _said_ I was leaving,” Yuan tried again, more forcefully this time.  
  
“Why would you come all this way and then not come inside?”  
  
Lloyd gave a soft chuckle, which only caused Yuan to cringe. He turned to face the brunet and was sure his features were betraying _some_ kind of emotion, as his muscles were so strained it was starting to hurt. He just couldn't tell what his face was showing. Fear? Grief? A mad grin, as the situation was somehow so laughable? “I _can't_.”  
  
And Lloyd understood. He nodded his head, his voice taking on a more serious note. “Then go home, Yuan. I'll give everyone your regards.”  
  
“They won't want them.”  
  
The words left his mouth before he could give them a second thought, but once he'd heard them in his own voice he felt white hot shame. When had his self esteem dropped so low? He shouldn't be saying these things- he shouldn't even have been _thinking_ them.  
  
“You're wrong about that,” Lloyd responded, running a hand across the back of his head. “But I know I can't change your mind. Just take care on your way home, all right? I'll be there in a couple hours.”  
  
Yuan scoffed. “I wasn't planning on waiting up for you.”  
  
As he returned to the village outskirts to take out his Rheaird in relative obscurity, he confirmed a notion that had already weighed on him. If he _had_ chased all potential companions off willingly, then he had no right to regain their good nature now.  
  
  
 **To Be Continued**


	3. Chapter 3

True to his intent, Yuan returned to the house immediately. There was no point in lingering near Iselia longer than necessary, and much as he was tempted to return to Yggdrasill instead, he knew his absence would alarm Lloyd. He retreated straight into the guest room and lay down on the bed, but sleep refused to come, as it had a habit of doing nowadays. The front door snapped shut a second time that evening not even two hours later, indicating Lloyd had returned from the party as well. However, it seemed the man didn't deem it necessary to check up on Yuan. That suited him just fine; the last thing he needed was Lloyd fretting over him because of what'd happened. He felt no need to explain why he'd fled from the party before he'd even truly attended it.  
  
No remarks came the next morning, either. In fact, the topic was avoided so firmly, Yuan would almost believe that Lloyd had forgotten all about the incident. Not that it mattered. After what'd happened, he'd finally made up his mind about something. His decision to stay with Lloyd had been a poor one, as he now found himself getting far too involved with people he shouldn't care about at all. Not with the nature of his life being what it was. Besides, these past few weeks of company had done nothing to ease his insomnia, so why should he even bother continuing this facade?  
  
He'd decided he would leave Lloyd's house to return to his rightful place by the World Tree, which was exactly what he announced at the breakfast table. His host was disappointed, to say the least. Lloyd's attempt at getting him to change his mind was a fierce one, with arguments ranging from “you still aren't well” to “you'll just get bored further out of your mind”. None of these things made Yuan feel even a _remote_ inclination towards staying. Lloyd didn't relent until he was already halfway to the door, but even then it was only half-hearted. What happened after that came as a surprise to Yuan: Lloyd insisted he should at least take _Noishe_ with him. That way, he wouldn't be truly alone. Not to mention, Yuan got along better with Noishe than any actual person.  
  
It was an odd compromise, but not one Yuan opposed. He agreed to take the Arshis with him and make sure Noishe was well looked after. In return, Lloyd agreed to stop by and visit as much as possible. It went without saying and wouldn't pose any trouble at all, as the man had been traveling to the World Tree every day for the past two weeks in Yuan's stead.  
  
Several months passed in the blink of an eye. With Noishe by his side, Yuan found that he dozed off a bit easier and when he did, he suffered from less nightmares. They were still there, but fewer in number and less severe. Not that it stopped Lloyd from remarking on how pale he looked whenever the man stopped by. Yuan tended to ignore these comments whenever they were shot his way. He'd lived through far less ideal circumstances, after all. Instead, he focused on continuing to teach Lloyd about the workings of magitechnology. Once he'd explained all there was to say about Rheairds, they moved on to things like mana reactors and holographic projections. He'd never gotten the impression that Lloyd was interested in such things, but the man's attention never wavered during his lectures. In fact, he was very prone to asking questions, though some were less intelligent than others. It was a good change of pace from the long silences, that much was certain.  
  
While Yuan couldn't decide if it was out of guilt or a genuine attempt to stay in touch, Colette had paid him a few visits as well. They'd been brief and a bit uncomfortable, but they'd happened nonetheless. He didn't know what to _do_ about these visits, either. There wasn't much conversation he could offer Colette, nor could he stave off the piercing notion that she looked very much like Martel. Half her time there was spent praying by the tree and petting Noishe, the other half was spent fishing for information about Yuan's social life. It was likely just harmless conversation, but it felt very much like prying to him. He would snap at her, he would make unsubtle remarks indicating that he'd like her to leave, he would avoid her gaze… Yet, her response would always be to brush his coldness off with a smile. That was just like Martel as well.  
  
\----  
  
“Hey Yuan, do you know how to whittle?”  
  
The only response Lloyd got to his question was a furrowed brow. Yuan barely even glanced up from the book he was reading because, really, what sort of ridiculous question was that? A moment of silence followed before Lloyd tried again.  
  
“I mean, I was just thinking. You've been teaching me about magitechnology, so I should return the favor by teaching _you_ something.” His shoulders gave a mild shrug, then his right hand found its way to Noishe's head. The Arshis was lounging lazily in the grass, Lloyd by his side and the afternoon sun towering overhead. With summer nearing, the temperature was beginning to rise, which was exactly why Yuan was reading in the shade of an old oak tree.  
  
“You don't owe me anything. Don't even bother.” The response was curt, as it always had tendency of being. Even more so when Yuan was occupied with other matters.  
  
A soft, content whine came from Noishe as Lloyd scratched him behind the ears, but that did nothing to distract him from the conversation. “Come on, it'll be fun. You must've read every single book there is five times by now. Besides, whittling always calms my nerves, so maybe it'll work for you too.”  
  
“My nerves are _fine_.” Though that was a bit of a lie, and Yuan knew it.  
  
“Don't you wanna be able to carve little wooden statues?”  
  
“No, not particularly.” There was a soft rustle as Yuan flipped to the next page in his book. “Besides, even if I did, I wouldn't need your help. I'm sure I can run a knife past a chunk of wood just fine.”  
  
“Have you ever _tried_ to whittle?”  
  
“No, but-”  
  
“Then you can't claim to know how ‘easy' it is. Because it's _not_. It takes a steady hand and there's several dwarven techniques that-”  
  
“Lloyd, I don't _care_!” The remark came out sounding harsher than intended, but Yuan found he didn't regret it at all. “I have plenty of ways to keep myself occupied.”  
  
“Like hell you do!” Now it was Lloyd's turn to retort. The fierceness in his voice took Yuan by surprise and he glanced up from his book to see that the man was glaring at him. “You must lead the most boring life ever! You don't get out, you don't talk to people… You don't do anything!”  
  
The accusations stung much harsher than Yuan would've liked. He knew it was true- that he didn't spend his time _socializing_ \- but that didn't strike him as a bad thing. He'd never been the kind to go out and meet people, and after losing many of his companions along the years, he'd lost the will to even _bother_. Why should he be doing something pointless like hanging around in a bar when he was much more comfortable enjoying the calm by himself? To hear Lloyd talk about his lifestyle as if it was something unnatural rubbed him the wrong way and now his temper was rising to a boiling point.  
  
He fixed the man with just as cold a glare as the one that was being sent at him. Two could play at this game and Yuan wasn't about to let such insults slip by. “It's none of your business how I spend my time! Go pester someone else if you think I'm boring! I don't know why you even _care_!”  
  
“Because we're supposed to be _friends_!” Lloyd sat up a bit straighter, his hands curling into fists in his lap, as Noishe shifted uneasily by his side. The sudden shouting was unnerving the Arshis, but his owner didn't seem to notice.  
  
“Friends?” Yuan scoffed before he could stop himself. Somehow, the idea just seemed ludicrous to him, though he wasn't sure _why_.  
  
“Yes, _friends_!” He drew a deep, steadying breath before continuing in a tone of voice that sounded more disappointed than frustrated. “Or something like that, anyway. I _want_ us to get along, but it's just so hard when you keep shutting me out.”  
  
Lloyd's eyes strayed to the ground and a small silence followed. Yuan honestly wasn't sure how to respond to that. In all these years, he'd never expected Lloyd to _care_ about how much he'd kept his distance. He had his reasons for not getting too close, after all. What point was there in getting emotionally attached to mortals who could vanish in a moment's notice? For a seraph, a human's life was like that of an _ant_. Yuan thought he'd made it clear from the start that they could never be friends, but evidently Lloyd hadn't gotten that hint. Or perhaps he'd simply refused to accept it. Perhaps that idealist inside him had hoped Yuan's mind would change over time.  
  
It hadn't. While Lloyd had that inner idealist, the _pessimist_ inside Yuan kept insisting that the only person he could trust not to vanish was himself.  
  
Once it became clear the seraph wasn't going to reply, Lloyd spoke up again. “I've known you for ten years now, but I don't know anything about you. I don't know where you're from, or what sort of life you used to have before you started traveling with Mithos and the others. I don't know how you met my dad, or what made you decide to turn against Cruxis in the end… I don't even know your last name. Don't you think that's stupid?”  
  
Yuan still couldn't fathom why this was _bugging_ Lloyd so much. The man was looking at him with an exasperated expression- no, perhaps even a _sad_ one, clearly hoping for some kind of confirmation. One that Yuan couldn't give him, because really, he didn't think it was stupid at all. The only reason he even knew a few things about Lloyd was because he'd _needed_ to know them. Because, as the leader of the Renegades, it'd been his job to verify whether that boy with the Angelus Exsphere was truly Kratos's lost son.  
  
Still, there was a small portion of guilt boiling up inside him, and he cursed himself for it. Perhaps Lloyd _did_ deserve more than he got from Yuan. Perhaps, for the sake of his old friends, he shouldn't have been this distant to Kratos's legacy- to the one who'd helped grant Martel and Mithos their eternal peace, free from the twisted prison they'd all been trapped in for four thousand years.  
  
“… Ka-Fai.”  
  
“What?” Lloyd's expression instantly turned from mournful to surprised.  
  
“My last name. It's Ka-Fai.” Yuan's gaze was back on his book, even if he hadn't continued reading just yet.  
  
“Oh. …Why didn't you ever mention that before?”  
  
“I don't see why I should've. Last names are a testament of your family tree, but mine was eradicated a long time ago. …Even if it hadn't been, I shed the Ka-Fai name of my own free will four thousand years ago.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Another small silence followed. Yuan felt he'd already shared more than he intended, yet Lloyd continued to ask more questions. It was starting to feel like unnecessary prying all over again. Perhaps, in time, the man might actually be able to force the answer out of him. Just not today.  
  
“None of your business.” Yuan's fingers traced the side of his book, before he relented and fixed his gaze on the other man again. “So are you going to teach me how to whittle or should I go back to being my boring self?”  
  
For a few seconds, there was only a stunned look on Lloyd's face. Then he broke into a hearty chuckle. “Sure thing, _friend_.”

\------

From the moment Lloyd had admitted his genuine desire to be friends with Yuan, something had changed. Something small had been set in motion, triggering the grander things, rather like an avalanche. A very sluggish avalanche, but an avalanche nonetheless. For starters, Yuan came to find that whittling was indeed not as easy as he'd previously assumed. Many pieces of wood ended up mutilated beyond salvation before he even got the general gist of the technique. Lloyd kept telling him that he was being too impatient; that he needed to take things slow and really gauge his next move, because once you take a piece off, you can never put it back on. Patience was exactly the sort of thing that Yuan always had trouble with. In a way, that served to make whittling quite the challenging pastime.  
  
Days turned to weeks and as they did, Yuan found himself opening up a bit more. He began by telling Lloyd about where he used to live before he joined up with the other ‘Kharlan Heroes'. It was the region that was now known as Asgard. Despite the climate remaining the same, the area had been quite different back then. He told Lloyd of the Balacruf Dynasty and the political influence that they had. There'd been an annual festival dedicated to Sylph, even if the people of that time paid virtually no attention to the Summon Spirits, making everything a bit of a facade. The Ancient War that hadn't been as much of a war as it'd been a thousand years of skirmishes and mutual dislike between two countries. It wasn't until fifteen years before the end of the ‘war' that the battlefields truly became occupied. The increased development of magitechnology due to the rising tensions with Tethe'alla became a popular topic as well. If anything, his stories were like history lessons that he was sure Raine Sage might've taught, but Lloyd's attention didn't seem to sway at all.  
  
It took a while for the conversations to take on a more personal note, because not only were Yuan's memories painful, they were four thousand years old. Many details had become lost over time and he could no longer truly _picture_ them in his head. The things he still remembered were facts, not images or voices. He began to talk about how Kratos had been a famous knight from Tethe'alla's capitol, originating from a noble family. Judging by Lloyd's expression, the man hadn't had the slightest inkling about that. The conversation turned to how Kratos was banished from his home due to association with the Yggdrasill siblings, who'd learned of the Mana Cannon. How they failed to stop Sylvarant from firing it, turning Kratos's home to ash. How they attempted to save the Great Kharlan Tree and ended up meeting with Ratatosk himself, as well as the Centurions. It was clear Lloyd was thinking of Emil the moment that name came up, so Yuan made sure to explain just what sort of a being Ratatosk truly had been. Not quite as vicious as he'd been after his awakening four thousand years later, but cynical and cold nonetheless. Earning Ratatosk's trust had been tricky, just as it'd been with several other Summon Spirits.  
  
In a way, it was exhausting for Yuan to share so many personal experiences. He wasn't quite used to it and there was always that pressing notion that by doing so, he was getting too emotionally invested in Lloyd. Even so, talking about his past seemed to be easing his mind a bit. These were the sort of memories that'd been cooped up inside him for four thousand years, because after Martel died a gap began to grow between himself and his other two companions. He'd stopped confiding in Kratos and Mithos long before he'd even considered starting the Renegades. Meanwhile, Lloyd seemed to realize he shouldn't push his luck. He didn't ask any invasive questions, instead allowing Yuan to decide where to take the conversation and what details to include. He was thankful for that.  
  
\-----  
  
It was a hot day, one like many others Yuan had lived through. The sort of day that usually wouldn't be considered special at all, but it was marked by a date. An anniversary. Today was the day of Martel's passing, even if Yuan had lost track of just how many years it'd been. He was sure that only Mithos had still been counting up until eleven years ago. It was a day of tradition. No matter how he felt about this date, he refused to dishonor that tradition. He was the only one who could still uphold it.  
  
While the Chosen system had been abolished, the Church of Martel itself still lingered. People wouldn't give up their religion that easily, especially after the ‘daughter of the angels' had saved their world. Even with the smaller churches closing down, the grander cathedrals still remained. Much of a blight as they were on Martel's memory, in a way Yuan was grateful that they couldn't be squashed out that easily. He made his way to the one in Palmacosta, when it was nearing the evening hours and he was certain he wouldn't be disturbed by other visitors that easily, seating himself on the back row of pews.  
  
The anniversary of Martel's death… Every year, the three companions that'd been left behind had spent it praying. For the first two decades, it'd been genuine mourning. However, as more time passed, Mithos managed to change it to _reverence_. He worshipped Martel's memory as Kratos and Yuan could do nothing but bow their heads, remaining silent and honoring their late friend in their own way. As the Church of Martel grew into being, so did Yuan's dislike for the way Mithos spoke of his sister. As Cruxis grew more powerful and Lord Yggdrasill more deranged, so did the abyss that separated the three friends.  
  
And yet, every year, the three would reunite in the cathedral and sit together. The only time when they were ever missing one of their own was during those years when Kratos had severed his ties with Cruxis to be with Anna. However, Yuan was sure that even then, their companion would be praying just like he always had.  
  
Now, here he was, all by himself, just as he had been for the past eleven years. He was honoring the tradition as the last of the four Kharlan Heroes. As he sat there, he didn't pray for anything in particular. Of course he didn't; who would even hear him? There wasn't a single deity he believed in. No, it was the principle of the matter. There was nothing to it but sitting in silence, honoring memories that had become so faded they might as well have been dreams.  
  
As the minutes passed, a sudden thought popped into his head. Wherever he was now, would Kratos have remembered? Would he have kept track of the dates at all? Would he even have been _able_ to keep track? Or would he perhaps consider himself too busy to waste time on such a pointless tradition? With the era of Cruxis finally behind them, it sometimes seemed like the lives they used to live were someone else's. Perhaps such reminders of their dedication to Martel's soul were unwanted, now.  
  
Yuan's eyes scrunched shut as he tried to block out further thoughts about his friend. He knew he'd never get answers to his questions, so why ask them? All he was doing was reminding himself of how much he still missed Kratos's companionship. Much moreso than Mithos's, which he'd already lost many centuries ago anyway. He shouldn't _care_ whether Kratos was still sticking to tradition or not. It wasn't like he still had anything to do with that man. As far as Yuan was concerned, Kratos might as well be dead. It didn't make any difference. Not anymore.  
  
\------  
  
The sun was beginning to set when Yuan finally returned to the tree. His thoughts still scattered and mildly sluggish from the lingering heat, he didn't notice there was someone else waiting for him until just before the man spoke up.  
  
“Where've you been?” Lloyd was sitting by the stream, leaning back against Noishe's hulking figure as the Arshis slept behind him.  
  
“None of your business.”  
  
“Right, right.” Lloyd closed his eyes for a moment. “Listen, I was thinking. It's been a long time since we last fought.”  
  
It took Yuan a moment to realize that by fighting, Lloyd meant sparring. It was the sort of thing that they only did once every few years and it'd always end the same way. Lloyd may have beaten Kratos on his own, and he may have beaten Yuan with the help of his companions, but when it was just the two of them, the guy never stood a chance. Yuan had a tendency to use the most dirty tactics in the book. Not because he was so desperate to defeat Lloyd, but because he'd taught himself to use whatever means necessary. Fighting with ‘honor' could cost you your life if you weren't careful, after all.  
  
He didn't mind sparring with Lloyd in the overall. His own skills needed honing from time to time as well, lest he let them waste away while waiting for an actual threat to show itself. However, tonight he wasn't quite feeling energetic enough to face someone as brash as Lloyd. “Is that really something you want to bring upon yourself again?” he asked.  
  
“If I didn't, I wouldn't have brought it up.”  
  
“You'll lose again.”  
  
“It's not about winning.”  
  
Yuan sighed, then his saber appeared in the palm of his hand. It was a trick that Lloyd had begged him to share several times already, but he'd kept telling the man it was impossible for humans to do. “Fine, then.”  
  
Lloyd smirked and within moments, the fight had begun. With Yuan being the slower one, his attacks were usually dodged by his more nimble opponent. However, Lloyd's own attacks were often caught by Yuan's blade and deflected, with the half-elf's counterattacks packing a much greater punch. It was a good balance like that, he found. Power versus speed. He never used his angel abilities in their fights. He just didn't see a need to rely on such cheap tricks. Besides, Lloyd couldn't use his angel abilities either. It was only fair, this way.  
  
Noishe didn't even bother to watch, instead continuing to doze by the stream. His ears would twitch whenever Yuan decided to throw some lightning magic into the fray, but he'd long since grown past the point of being intimidated by it. The same counted for Lloyd, who could dodge the magic with such ease that Yuan wondered why he even bothered to try this at all.  
  
The longer their spar lasted, the more lost in thought he became, until he was moving solely on reflex, his attention elsewhere. There was something familiar about Lloyd's fighting style, something that stirred in the back of his memories. It wasn't until the man jumped up into the air to flip over Yuan and land behind him that the pieces clicked. _Kratos_. That was one of Kratos' moves. Suddenly, he felt like he was called back into the old days when he'd often attempted to best his closest friend in combat. He remembered the thirst to prove his worth and he could almost picture Mithos and Martel watching them in anticipation.  
  
For just a fraction of a second, he stood frozen in place and that proved to be his undoing. His mind caught up with his body once more and he whirled around, only to be knocked off his feet by a Fierce Demon Fang attack- ironically, another one of Kratos' favorites. There was the brief, vague realization that his fingers had lost their grip on his saber, the sensation of falling backwards and a sharp pain. The next thing he became consciously aware of was lying on his back on the ground, with Lloyd's voice ringing in his ears.  
  
“-uan! Yuan, are you okay?”  
  
A pair of hands roughly shook his shoulders, so he batted them away even before his mind could process what was going on. “Get _off_ me! I'm fine!”  
  
Lloyd, who was crouching next to him, leaned back to give him some more space. He sat up, his right hand moving to the back of his head. It felt so painful that he was sure he was lucky to have avoided a concussion. Either way, there was going to be a bump and an irritated sound left him once that realization had sunk in.  
  
“I'm sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.” Lloyd bowed his head apologetically, but it seemed he couldn't stop himself from smiling regardless.  
  
“No, you got _lucky_ ,” Yuan snapped.  
  
“Heh. Maybe.” Lloyd pushed himself to his feet and strode over to the fallen saber. He lifted it up from the ground, and Yuan noticed he did so with very little difficulty. The weight usually posed a problem for those who didn't have Cruxis Crystals. Perhaps the Angelus Exsphere still had more of an effect on the man than he'd been giving it credit for.  
  
“If you want a rematch, you won't be getting it tonight. You hit your head pretty hard.” With that, the saber was held out to Yuan, who scowled up at the brunet.  
  
“Don't worry, I'm done for the day.”  
  
  
 **To Be Continued**


	4. Chapter 4

Summer turned to fall and as it did, the usual changes began to occur. The weather turned from dry and hot to wet and dreary. The skies became more grey by the day and the leaves turned to orange. Yuan never particularly minded fall- he didn't mind _any_ season in particular. No matter how much he liked or disliked it, they'd continue cycling anyway. Fall would pass in the blink of an eye, as would winter, spring and summer.  
  
Lloyd, on the other hand, was a different story. Just as the sky and the leaves changed color, his attitude turned from cheerful to moody. The man would grumble about wet lumber and mud, and how difficult it was to see the stars. Yuan wondered vaguely if he was beginning to rub off on Kratos's son. Of course, the autumn blues did nothing to hamper Lloyd's visits.  
  
“So… I've been thinking.”  
  
Yuan's lips curled into a smirk. Oh, the many comebacks he could give to that. Lloyd seemed to realize the same thing, because he frowned and pressed on before Yuan could even open his mouth.  
  
“I've been thinking that maybe… I should put my mom's Exsphere to better use.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Yuan's knife made a small cut into the piece of wood he was holding, carefully swerving around to slice off a new layer. He was getting pretty good at whittling, if he said so himself.  
  
“Well, it's basically a Cruxis Crystal right? Or… High Exsphere, or whatever you're supposed to call it.”  
  
“High Exsphere will do fine,” Yuan replied in a mildly monotonous voice.  
  
“Right. So… Maybe I should use it the way _you're_ using it and become a seraph.”  
  
At that, Yuan instantly froze his hands and turned his gaze up to see Lloyd looking at him with the oddest expression. Cautious. Apprehensive. It reminded him of a young child expecting to be punished by his parents. Apparently, Lloyd had known beforehand this conversation wouldn't go fluently and Yuan could guess why. “What are you _saying_? You want to halt your metabolism?” he asked.  
  
“Well… Well, _yeah_ ,” Lloyd shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Maybe immortality isn't such a bad thing.”  
  
“It's not the same thing as _immortality_!” Yuan snapped. “And that Exsphere is _not_ a toy!”  
  
“I know that! I just thought-”  
  
“If these are the kind of pointless ideas you produce by thinking, you need to stop doing it.”  
  
Yuan turned his gaze back to the items in his hands and wondered if perhaps Lloyd regretted bringing this up while he was holding a knife. A small silence followed, then the crunching of crisp leaves under Lloyd's boots. He sat down by Yuan's side, leaning back against the trunk of the tree that would always provide him with shade during the summer. Now, however, its branches were turning bare and useless.  
  
“I'm sorry. I know it's a touchy subject for you.”  
  
“Hmph.”  
  
“It's just that… In about fifty years, I'll be gone, but you'll still be right here. Who will be your friend then?”  
  
“I'm used to that sort of thing,” Yuan scoffed, though truth be told, it was a prospect that frightened him. Once Lloyd died, it'd just be him and Noishe, but the Protozoan wouldn't live forever either. Everyone and everything was destined to perish, even Yuan himself, but he knew he had the rotten luck of living so long he'd be the last one standing.  
  
“That's not the sort of thing you should be used to!” Lloyd drew a deep breath, before continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “I promised Martel I'd watch over the tree and I feel like maybe I should watch over the world itself too. Because of all the spirits who trusted me and my friends too. And all those people who believed I could make a difference. When I die, all that's gonna be left to you and I don't think it's a one-man job.”  
  
“I accepted the job knowing full well I'd have to handle it by myself.”  
  
“Why are you so against this?”  
  
Yuan didn't need to think about the answer at all. It came to him immediately. “Because living for an eternity isn't a blessing, it's a curse.”  
  
“One that you could end whenever you want. You've just gotta remove the Exsphere and then you can grow old and die anyway, right?”  
  
“… That's not as easy as you make it sound. The more attached you become to life, the more reluctant you become to give it up.”  
  
Reluctant wasn't the right word to use there and Yuan knew it, but he'd rather not admit that it was _fear_ that prevented him from removing his Cruxis Crystal. Fear and guilt. A sense of duty and a promise he'd made to Kratos. He couldn't just up and die. He _couldn't_. It was his responsibility to keep on living. A responsibility he wouldn't wish upon anyone else.  
  
“Oh…” Apparently, Lloyd didn't have a comeback for that one. He simply folded his hands behind the back of his head and leaned back against the tree, allowing silence to fall once more. For a few long moments, there wasn't any sound but the erratic carving of Yuan's knife in the wood. It must've been a whole minute before Lloyd spoke up again. “You know, when dad left, he told me not to die before he does.”  
  
“I wouldn't put too much thought into those words,” Yuan replied gruffly. Knowing Kratos, he was just being too sentimental for his own good.  
  
“Too late for that. I spent eleven years thinking about them. It took me a while to figure it out, but I'm pretty sure I know what he was trying to say.”  
  
Yuan couldn't care less what Kratos was trying to say. What happened between those two was scarcely any of his business and words coming from a man who would willingly leave his own son behind were empty either way.  
  
Regardless, Lloyd pressed on. “I think it's not so much that he didn't want me to die, it's that he wanted me to _live_. To really achieve my full potential. When I first met him, I was kinda jealous because I thought he was stronger than me, but… In the end, he was the one looking up at _me_. He thought _I_ was strong for fighting what I believe in and that's why he trusted me to take on Mithos. That's why he gave me his sword and got the materials for the Eternal Ring and… And everything. He must've thought I was incredible to give me that kind of trust.”  
  
Lloyd gave a bitter laugh and while Yuan had to concede that the man had a point, it only served to make him detest Kratos's actions even more. “He was just an old coward.”  
  
“Maybe.” Lloyd gave a brief sigh. “Or maybe he was right. Maybe I have what it takes to keep on living until I'm absolutely sure it's _time_ to die. …Besides, I think he would've wanted me to keep _you_ out of trouble too.”  
  
This time, it was Yuan's turn to force a chuckle. “Funny. He told _me_ to watch over _you_.”  
  
“You're not doing a good job of it. I dropped a log on my foot just this morning.”  
  
Yuan snorted and finally continued carving the little figure in his hands, even if his attention wasn't all there. An eternity with Lloyd… Ten years ago, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. He'd find it a deplorable notion- a wretched fate to resign himself to. However, over the years, Lloyd had changed. Or perhaps it was Yuan himself who'd changed. It'd taken him eleven years to figure out what Lloyd's companions had known from the start. The man was someone he could _depend_ on. Someone to trust in times of need.  
  
He remembered Botta's death and how conflicted he'd felt about it. When he'd first formed the Renegades, he'd told himself to always keep his distance and maintain a professional atmosphere around his subordinates. He'd have to keep his work and his personal life separate, no matter what. Even so, he'd come to depend on his lieutenants a bit too much. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, the passing of one of them would cause him to experience a feeling of loss. Perhaps not as great a loss as that of losing a _companion_ , but a loss nonetheless.  
  
What _would_ happen when Lloyd finally met his end? Whether it be twenty years from now, fifty years or even five hundred... Would he mourn the loss in the same way he mourned his lieutenants, or would it be the same sort of loss affiliated with his three oldest companions? Would extending the man's life change anything at all?  
  
“… If you're truly serious about this, I'll teach you the proper way to use the Exsphere's full potential.”  
  
From the corner of his eye, Yuan could see Lloyd sit up so fast it looked like he'd been electrocuted. “You really mean it?!”  
  
“I can't guarantee you'll be able to manipulate your metabolism effectively enough to halt the aging process, or even come close. The Angelus project was a highly experimental, unpredictable method of creating Cruxis Crystals. Your Exsphere may not have developed that ability at all.”  
  
“That's fine! Just giving it a shot is enough for me!” Lloyd paused for a moment, grinning sheepishly, then continued. “Do you think Colette might be interested too? I know Zelos destroyed his Cruxis Crystal ages ago, but Colette still has hers, so…”  
  
Yuan groaned inwardly. He could tolerate Lloyd's presence for a few more centuries, but Colette was another matter entirely. No matter how much time would pass, he might never stop associating her with Martel. Not that she was as bad as that Summon Spirit, but at least the spirit stayed out of sight and respected his personal space. Perhaps she knew that her features would only cause Yuan pain.  
  
On the bright side, Colette might take some of Lloyd's attention off Yuan. “I wouldn't know.”  
  
“But you wouldn't mind, right?”  
  
“If she wants to learn, I'll teach her.”  
  
“Great! Then… I'll ask her tomorrow! I can't wait to tell Genis and Raine too.”  
  
For a moment, Yuan felt silly for forgetting. Forgetting that two of Lloyd's closest friends were half-elves and had the prospect of living for over another nine hundred years as well. He hadn't spoken to those two for so long- it must've been a good eight years now. If Lloyd learned to halt his metabolism, he could spend more time with the Sage siblings as well.  
  
His gaze focused on the wooden figure between his fingers. He was planning to turn it into a bird. However, at its current stage, the wings were the most pronounced feature. The body looked nothing like a bird's just yet. If anything, it looked like a human wearing a bulky dress. An _angel_.  
  
It'd likely be easier to turn it into just that. So he did.

\------

Colette hadn't wanted to halt her metabolism. According to Lloyd, she'd put a lot of thought into the matter, but ultimately decided against it. That suited Yuan just fine. One student was already bad enough- especially one who had no experience with magic. Explaining how the Exsphere affected one's body and how to use that to one's advantage was so much easier when the other person has basic knowledge of a body's internal mana and how to manipulate it. Why couldn't Kratos's wife have had _elven_ blood to pass down to her child?

Lloyd was willing to _listen_ , at least, but it seemed like most of Yuan's explanations went over his head and, even when they did hit the mark, they had trouble _sticking_. Had it been this difficult to teach it to Kratos as well? He couldn't remember. Not very likely.

Two weeks later, after Yuan ended another one of their lessons with the distinct feeling of having made no progress at all, Lloyd decided to ask the unthinkable. Perhaps he was feeling especially brash that day. He stuck around even while Yuan strode towards the stream to fill his hipflask with some fresh water.

“Hey, um…”

“What is it _now_?” Yuan sighed. He recognized that tone of voice by now. It meant Lloyd was about to ask something ridiculous.

“I was just wondering…” He trailed off awkwardly for a moment as he moved to stand behind Yuan. “Don't get _mad_ okay?”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Because you won't like the question.”

He knelt down by the stream's edge, dipping his flask into the water. “If you know that much, then don't ask me.”

“It's been bugging me for ages now. I have to know. Why… I mean… Did you ever try to move on from Martel?”

The question caught Yuan off guard so badly that the flask slipped from his grasp and he had to fumble to get it back, cursing loudly and splashing water over his own feet as he did so. “That is _none_ of your damn business!”

“See, I knew you'd get mad.” Lloyd shook his head.

“I have every _right_ to get mad! I don't ask about your personal affairs either!”

“I wouldn't mind telling you about them if you did.”

“That's not the point! I don't _care_ about your lovelife, or lack thereof!” After plugging up the flask, he gave it a quick shake in a hopeless attempt to dry it off a bit. It continued to drip into his hands, soaking his gloves.

“It's just… It's been four thousand years. I can't even imagine how long that is. Enough time to find someone else, that's for sure.”

“Seraphim don't just find a lowly mortal partner on the planet's surface.”

“ _Dad_ did.” Lloyd retorted with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary.

That remark rubbed Yuan the wrong way more than anything else the man had spouted so far. Yes, Kratos had started a family. Kratos had had that freedom. And look how fast he'd given that up in the end. Look how fast he'd abandoned his son, the last remnant of the woman he'd loved. A long time ago, Yuan had dreamed of a family of his own. Even after her death, he'd fantasized about marrying Martel and having beautiful children. They'd have her eyes. That was what he'd hoped.

“You want to know why I didn't _just move on_?” Yuan snapped, dropping the flask to the ground beside him so he could remove his gloves. “It's because I _couldn't_! I lived every day of those four thousand years with the promise that the woman I'd loved would be returned to me. How do you think Mithos would've reacted if I'd betrayed his sister, if only for one night? How do you think _I_ would've felt?”

“Oh…”

Yuan shot another venomous glare over his shoulder to see that Lloyd's demeanor had changed instantly. The look on his face was sympathetic, almost like someone in _mourning_. He scoffed loudly and turned his attention back to his gloves.

“… That must've been really lonely.”

“It became a way of life. Things are less complicated when you don't have a partner to share everything with, that's for certain.”

He heard Lloyd approaching him and for a second he wondered if the man was going to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, or something ridiculous like that. Instead, the brunet scooped the hipflask up from the ground and flipped the cap off so he could take a sip. Yuan's face immediately contorted into a disgusted scowl. Once Lloyd realized that, he chuckled sheepishly and held the flask out to him. He snatched it back so fast his nails almost left scratches in Lloyd's palm.

“So… You're not ever going to settle down and start a family?” Lloyd asked quietly. One last attempt to get Yuan to see things in a different light, perhaps.

“No.”

\------

Sixty years. He'd been traveling with Derris-Kharlan for over sixty years now. It felt like so much longer, but the database didn't lie. The calendar didn't lie. It'd only been a bit over sixty years.

This place was driving him to madness. He knew it to be true. The lifeless beings showed no promise of regaining themselves. The vast emptiness of space grew more intimidating by the day. Nightmares had become a regular occurrence, but at times sleep was still a welcome change from the harsh reality he had to face when he was awake. There were times when he felt a chill run down his spine. Times when he felt so cold his body began to shake and tremble, despite the temperature being as moderate as it always was. Times when his chest seemed to tighten painfully and he found himself gasping for air- struggling to breathe to the point where his vision became blurred and stars danced across what little he _could_ see.

He wanted to run. More than anything, he wanted to run, but he had no way to escape. This was the fate he'd chosen for himself. This was the fate he _deserved_. His guilt was waging war against his fears and loneliness.

What was Lloyd doing right now? Was he even still alive? And what of Yuan? What of the new tree? What of the _world_?

_Don't ask questions that have no hope of being answered_.

He strode through the outer rim of Welgaia, pushing his way through hordes of angels who seemed intent on getting in his way. They were always in his way. It was like they had nothing better to do than being physical obstacles. Just a waste of space and a waste of flesh, like corpses that refused to decay.

_Don't think like that_.

Vinheim's towers loomed overhead. He'd considered tearing the place down more than once, but he could never bring himself to do it. He still remembered constructing it with his own two hands, alongside his own two companions. A castle worthy of heavenly messengers, that's what they'd built. Now it was just another ruin, crumbling little by little. Just like him.

_Keep it together. Do not submit to these thoughts._

There was a loud cracking sound in the distance, echoing through the streets and breaking the silence. He started, his heart racing and his hand reaching for his sword's handle, but there was no need to unsheathe it. His eyes surveyed the area, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. False alarm. Again. He'd become exceedingly jumpy over the past years. Perhaps he was hoping for some action- _Anything_ to break the constant boredom. Anything to end this pointless charade of a life.

_No. Don't. There's no point in dying. There's no point in dying._

Except that there was. There was more point in dying than there was in living. His eyes scrunched shut and his hands moved away from the sword sheath to ball themselves into fists. Cold washed over him. He drew a deep breath, much as his chest began to protest. Then, he broke into a run. He ran and ran. With purpose. With desperation. With the need to leave his anxiety behind and escape. He knew exactly where to. He'd done it before.

Before long, he stood panting before a door. Nothing but harsh metal and thick locks. He entered the password in the panel beside it and it hissed open, revealing a field of lush plant life. It was walled in from all sides, trapped inside an enormous room, but it was a field nonetheless. The vivid green was a welcome change from all the dark, depressing colors he'd become accustomed to, the smell of the grass filling his nose immediately. Already, he felt himself relax. He strode inside and after the door had closed behind him, he let himself sink into a sitting position, leaning back against the cold metal. His eyes slid shut and for a few long moments, all he did was attempt to regain himself. To calm his breathing and focus on nothing but the feel of grass under his hands.

“You've returned once more,” a female voice rang out across the room.

His eyes opened to face the tree that lay before him, right in the center of the room. The tree that had grown from the cutting the elves had planted there. A tree just like the one back home, even if it had a different deity spirit watching over it. A tree that Mithos had moved to a more secure location, away from the lifeless society that he'd hoped to build. For its own good, perhaps, but a cruel fate nonetheless.

“Norn.” He nodded his head in greeting, careful to be as respectful as possible. She still hadn't forgiven him or his companions for what they'd done to her tree, but she couldn't force him out of this room. She couldn't do _anything_ to him.

A woman materialized before him, hovering a foot above the ground. Long green hair fell down her back and white feathery wings spread out by her sides. It was a bit eerie how similar her style was to Martel, despite the fact that the two had never met. She watched him closely, her eyes narrowing. “This is the third time this year you've invaded my terrain looking as though you are being chased by something truly terrifying.”

“Hn.” His eyes closed again, his breathing deep. “Perhaps I am.”

“This is what's become of the great _angel_ who assisted with forcing me into this cage. Such a pitiful state.”

Norn's words had very little effect on him. He'd already accepted them as the truth. He raised a hand to his face, pressing the heel of his palm against his right eye. “I'm aware.”

“Are you burdened with regrets, Kratos Aurion?”

“… Far too many.”

**To Be Continued**


	5. Chapter 5

Ninety-eight years. It'd been ninety-eight years since the reunification of the two worlds. Ninety-eight years since the abolishment of Cruxis and the Church of Martel. Ninety-eight years since the birth of the new World Tree. Ninety-eight years since Mithos died and Kratos vanished from Yuan's life.  
  
Many of Lloyd's companions had passed away over time. Regal Bryant, Presea Combatir, Marta Lualdi, Zelos Wilder, Sheena Fujibayashi… Though, for a great portion of her life, her last name had been Wilder. Colette Brunel had found herself a nice young man from Izoold as well. Children had been left behind, as well as grandchildren. Of the original party, only Genis and Raine Sage were still around; those two and Lloyd himself.  
  
For the longest time, Yuan had assumed that Lloyd would never get the hang of halting his metabolism, but at the age of thirty, the man had prevailed. He'd looked exactly the same at every single funeral for his old friends that he'd attended. Yuan had joined him there, if only because he'd deemed it necessary to show his respect for the dead. Lloyd would be greeted with warmth and sympathy, Yuan would be greeted with a solemn impassiveness. He was sure that some people wondered why he'd even bothered to show, but it didn't hinder him. Not really.  
  
The world itself hardly changed at all. The tension between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla decreased, but didn't disappear. It likely wouldn't until all memories- all tales of the way the worlds used to be- faded into nothingness. With Sheena's death, the pacts that'd been made with the Summon Spirits all became void. All except for the one with Origin, who'd included Lloyd as somewhat of an honorary pactmaker. The Eternal Sword could still be wielded if there was ever a need, but so far, none had arisen.  
  
Still, something had changed inside Yuan the moment he realized Derris-Kharlan's return was only two years away. He began to stare up at the sky more and more. He sat by the World Tree in silence, waiting and waiting. He didn't want to make the first move. He liked to think he was too stubborn to make the first move. Truthfully, he was too _afraid_ to make the first move. He dreaded that it would be in vain and he dreaded that even if it wasn't, he wouldn't know what to say. Or that all the anger he'd been holding back for a century would come flooding out.  
  
Kratos…  
  
No messages came. Derris-Kharlan was within range, Martel confirmed as much, but not a single attempt to reach out was made. Was he dead? Had he resorted to ending his own life without Lloyd there to hold his hand, or had the angels perhaps started a mutiny? Or was something vital in the communication channel simply broken?  
  
Weeks turned to months and Yuan became restless. Frustrated. Worried. Angry with Kratos for not getting in touch and angry with himself for _caring_. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. Lloyd noticed, but said nothing for the longest time. Not until he found Yuan pacing back and forth in front of the tree, Noishe watching him with a look that could almost be interpreted as apprehensive. The Protozoan's ears were lying flat in his neck and his eyes were wide. Tension was rising inside Yuan and he was sure that Noishe could feel it. At Lloyd's approach, the animal gave a soft whine, but Yuan didn't halt his pacing. Not until Lloyd made a grab for his arm and he froze.  
  
“Yuan, stop. Stop it. …Just sit down, alright? You're driving Noishe crazy.”  
  
Yuan grumbled a curse under his breath. He snatched his arm free from Lloyd's grip and wandered over to his favorite tree to sit down. The brunet had built a wooden bench there, just for him. He let himself drop onto it, leaning back and glancing up at the branches that filtered bright sunlight.  
  
Meanwhile, Lloyd strode over to Noishe to calm him down, but his attention was still on Yuan. “What's the matter with you?”  
  
“It's complicated,” was his curt reply. Still, it was a more substantial response than the ‘it's none of your business' he used to snap up until several decades ago.  
  
“So explain it to me.”  
  
Yuan sighed. Perhaps it _was_ time to tell Lloyd the truth, if only to get the man as riled up as he was. Kratos was the one who'd forbidden him from divulging the information and where the hell was he now?  
  
“You should know that up until two years after the reunification of the worlds, Kratos and I managed to stay in touch,” he began, folding his hands together in his lap and fixing his gaze on Lloyd.  
  
“You… What?”  
  
“There was a channel of communication between Derris-Kharlan's core system and this tree, which was born where the Tower of Salvation used to be. It wasn't much, but it was enough. It took two years for Derris-Kharlan to be out of range.”  
  
For a good ten seconds, Lloyd was silent. Then he blurted out in almost accusing tone: “You mean I could've talked to Kratos for another two years and you didn't _tell_ me?!”  
  
Kratos. Not Dad but _Kratos_. Lloyd had stopped calling him Dad a good fifty years ago. Yuan understood why that would be.  
  
“Kratos didn't want you to know. I don't pretend to understand what was going through his mind.”  
  
“But… That's just…” Lloyd produced some sort of frustrated grunt, then turned to run a hand over Noishe's head again, ruffling the Protozoan's fur.  
  
“In less than two years' time, Derris-Kharlan will be passing by our planet once more. It's within range again.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And nothing. That's just it.” Yuan drew a deep breath to steady himself. “He hasn't opened the channel yet.”  
  
“Did he forget about us?”  
  
“He wouldn't. The most plausible explanation is that something's wrong.”  
  
Lloyd said nothing. He continued to pet Noishe, though he didn't exactly hide the expression on his face either. It'd darkened considerably, to the point where it looked like the man was in pain. Knowing that someone may be in trouble but being unable to get to them- to even verify it for certain… That must've been one of the most gruesome situations a person like Lloyd could be in.  
  
“Can _you_ open the channel?” he finally asked.  
  
“No. Martel might.”  
  
Lloyd wasted no time getting to his feet and striding over to the tree. He stood before it and waved a hand, looking every bit as restless as Yuan felt. “Is that true? _Can_ you get in touch with Kratos?!”  
  
There was silence. Then, she appeared before them, still every bit a sister image of the fiancée Yuan had lost. Her expression was calm, almost _kind_ , and it aggravated Yuan greatly. “In a way.”  
  
“What are you waiting for?! Do it!”  
  
It'd been a long time since he'd last seen Lloyd get worked up over something this badly, but in retrospect, he could hardly blame the man. The situation affected him just as much as it did Yuan, if not more so. It was Lloyd who'd used the Eternal Sword to send Kratos up to Derris-Kharlan.  
  
“There is very little point. Communications are being blocked from the other end.”  
  
“ _Blocked_?!” Lloyd's voice was filled with confusion. Confusion at the word and at what it implied. “What does that mean?”  
  
“It means that someone in charge of the system's mainframe refuses to accept the calls,” Martel explained. While her tone was still calm, Yuan noticed her facial expression conveyed something else. Regret, perhaps. “I'm sorry.”  
  
Yuan felt more cold, more hurt and frustrated than ever before. He pushed himself to his feet and began to stride into the forest, away from Yggdrasill without glancing back. Lloyd called his name, but he ignored it. He knew perfectly well what this implied and it stung like a knife to the heart.  
  
The only one in Derris-Kharlan who could still have access to the mainframe's settings was Kratos himself.  
  
\------  
  
The seasons continued to cycle with no news from Derris-Kharlan. Yuan had given up hope. He still _cared_ , but he knew nothing would change. It filled him with anger- far more so than Kratos's decision to leave with Derris-Kharlan in the first place. Refusing communication was a coward's decision. A selfish coward who didn't dare look back at the life he'd left behind. More than ever, he came to resent his old friend.  
  
Lloyd had taken the news harshly as well. They didn't speak of it, but Yuan could tell. To be rejected by his own father, the man he'd wanted so desperately to get to know… It must've been a blow.  
  
By the time the hundredth anniversary arrived, Yuan had stopped paying attention to the dates. He'd stopped counting. What did it matter how close Derris-Kharlan was, anyway? It wasn't until the sky began to glow purple and mana levels increased globally that he knew it was finally time. It was the blessing of the century. The world would prosper, _life_ would prosper. Yggdrasill would benefit from this as well. That was, perhaps, the only bright side in all this.  
  
It would last for a whole week.  
  
He went to bed on the night of the third day, expectations as low as ever. Everything was silent. That was, until Noishe began to howl from his stable. He whined and yelped, and a chill ran down Yuan's spine at the sound. He hadn't heard Noishe cause such a ruckus before, not ever. Panic began to spread through his mind and he made to get dressed again, having only just gotten ready to step into bed.  
  
That's when it happened. He could hear the sky itself rumble and he rushed over to the window to see what was going on. In the distance, clouds were swirling like a whirlpool. Much to his horror, the phenomenon was centered right above Yggdrasill's sacred domain. There was no mistaking that distance. All of a sudden, a beam of light crashed and hit the planet surface, almost like lightning striking a tree. As it did so, the ground shook and mana exploded in all directions. He heard Noishe yelp and he heard himself curse.  
  
There wasn't any time to lose. Whatever it was that'd just happened, it couldn't be good. If someone was attempting to harm the tree with magic while he wasn't around… Well, he'd never forgive himself. _No one_ would forgive him.  
  
From his home, the World Tree was only a few miles away. He lived much closer to Yggdrasill than Lloyd did. He hurried into his clothes, but the situation had caught him off guard so badly that he was halfway through putting his pants on when he realized he was trying to put them on backwards. By the time he was putting his gloves on, it finally dawned on him that wearing gloves was hardly a necessity.  
  
Outside the house, Noishe was whining and pacing in his stable, close to clambering over the door. He began to yowl in an agonized tone when Yuan stepped into the cold night air, so the half-elf had no choice but to make a quick detour. He jogged up to Noishe's stable and gave the Protozoan a quick pat on the head.  
  
“It's fine, Noishe. It's _fine_. I'm going to investigate.”  
  
Noishe settled down to some degree, though his eyes were still wide in shock. Yuan had no time to worry about the animal anymore, he was already running late. He pulled his own Rheaird out of his wing pack and sped to the World Tree, a feeling of dread in his stomach. The area around it didn't seem charred, or even remotely harmed. Not that he could see Yggdrasill itself. It was still surrounded by a magical barrier that hid it from sight, masking the entire area as dense forest. Who even knew what might be going on inside it? How had anyone even _found_ it?  
  
He made a cautious landing just outside the barrier, his blade appearing in his hand. He had no idea if he needed to be armed for whatever scene might be waiting for him, but it was best to be prepared. If he could just make a silent approach-  
  
“Hey Yuan!”  
  
Yuan froze, grunted loudly and whirled around to face Lloyd. The brunet was looking apprehensive, but definitely not as worried as Yuan felt he _should've_ been.  
  
“Did you see that flash of light? I got here as soon as I could. Good thing I was still up, or I might've missed it.”  
  
“ _Keep your voice down_ ,” Yuan hissed under his breath.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because we don't know who or what is out there. Draw your swords and approach from the other angle.” He made a quick hand gesture along the barrier's edge.  
  
Lloyd nodded and unsheathed both swords, then stepped a good thirty five feet away from Yuan. If they both entered the barrier from mildly different angles, they might be able to get the jump on any intruders- If there were only a few of them, anyway. If there was a whole group of them… Well, they'd tackle that problem if they got to it. Once he was prepared, Lloyd shot him a nod, which he returned. Then, they both stepped through.  
  
The first thing Yuan noticed was fog. Lots of it, obscuring his vision. The closer he stepped to the tree, the more he realized that he'd been right. He could see a silhouette through the mist. Someone was there. A lone individual, standing before the World Tree. He gripped his saber more tightly as he attempted to sneak up on the stranger.  
  
By the time he was close enough to avoid being too hindered by fog and he could make out what he was looking at, he was struck by the notion that this wasn't a stranger at all. That mana signature… That stance…  
  
No. It couldn't be. That was _impossible_.  
  
The intruder turned to face him. Even through the mist, he could make out the matted hair. He met with sunken, tired eyes. It looked nothing like the man he'd known, but at the same time all the features were there. He'd forgotten Lloyd was even there until the other man was right by his side and spoke up.  
  
“…Kratos?”  
  
Yuan was absolutely dumbstruck. There was no way this could be happening. No way this could be _real_. It had to be some sort of trick, or a dream, or…  
  
Kratos took a few steps towards them and he instinctively raised his weapon, assuming a defensive position. Lloyd, on the other hand, lowered his swords entirely. Then he sheathed them. The two were watching each other with a gaze that was eerily identical. Yuan hadn't realized how much Lloyd had grown to look just like his father until he could compare them in person.  
  
Kratos's expression softened from disbelief into something else. Sadness. There was a flurry of movement as Lloyd dashed forward, pulling his father into an embrace. One that Kratos returned only too eagerly, his arms slinging themselves around Lloyd's shoulders, hiding his face from view.  
  
Yuan felt betrayed. More than anything, he felt betrayed. He couldn't bring himself to break up the reunion, but he _loathed_ it and found himself looking away. To think Kratos could just come waltzing back in after a century and be welcomed like a hero… It made him sick.  
  
“Kratos, I-I can't believe it! It's… It's really you!”  
  
“Lloyd… I hadn't thought… You look…” Kratos' voice was hoarse. Far more hoarse than Yuan could remember it ever being. Perhaps he hadn't used it for so long that it'd begun to rust, along with the rest of his body.  
  
He really did look awful. He _smelled_ awful, too. Yuan could pick up the stench even from ten feet away. Had he been taking care of himself at all?  
  
“You really came back for us… I _knew_ you would!” Lloyd began to laugh. It was an odd, strained sound. Yuan suspected it was a bad cover for his true emotions, because the way his shoulders shook made it perfectly clear he was crying.  
  
Kratos didn't seem to be in control of his emotions either. He was almost _heaving_.  
  
It took almost a minute for Lloyd to finally break free of the embrace, his face still wearing a pained grimace. “Geez, you _reek_. When's the last time you took a shower?”  
  
“Welgaia… is short on water at the moment,” Kratos replied slowly. That struck Yuan as odd. There'd never been a water shortage before. There were plenty of springs in the lands outside the capitol, which were devoid of life yet filled with all sorts of natural resources.  
  
A brief silence followed, then Kratos's attention turned to Yuan. He couldn't stop himself from thinking ‘ _finally_ '. Filled with a sense of indignation and bubbling fury, he once again met those eyes head-on, wondering about the bags beneath them. Kratos hadn't been sleeping. In fact, his gaze seemed unfocused. Like he wasn't all there.  
  
Why was he worried? Why should he _care_ what Kratos had been through? He'd brought it upon himself. He'd chose that fate for himself when he could just as well have remained here, with his friends and family. He deserved whatever he'd gotten.  
  
“Yuan…” Kratos's lips curled into somewhat of a smile. Hollow, but a smile in the technical sense of the word. Well-intentioned as that was, it was the straw that broke the camel's back and Yuan found himself shouting before he could stop himself.  
  
“You _bastard_! How _dare_ you?! How _dare_ you come _crawling_ back here after what you've done?! Is your _duty_ that easily abandoned?! This is what you _left_ us for?!”  
  
Whatever attempt Kratos had made at smiling, it was washed off his face immediately. He hung his head, tangled locks of auburn falling over his features, but Yuan could still tell he was gritting his teeth.  
  
“Yuan…” Lloyd tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but he moved away before the fingertips could even touch him.  
  
This whole situation was infuriating. Kratos had given up on all his responsibilities to pretend the last hundred years hadn't happened and Lloyd was actually _buying_ it. Whatever respect he'd built up for the man over the past century could be discarded immediately, it was clearly worth nothing. Lloyd was still that same little boy who was far too trusting- far too willing to see only good intentions, not the underlying motive.  
  
“You _stay away_ from me! _Both_ of you!”  
  
He stormed away, hoping to leave Yggdrasill's barrier before either of them could object too much. What stung most was that neither of them _did_ object.  
  
\------  
  
It took almost two days for Lloyd to finally come seek Yuan out. Ridiculous. He knew exactly where to find him. What'd taken him so damned long? Kratos wasn't with him. Of course he wasn't. That coward.  
  
Lloyd was halfway to the front door when he realized Yuan wasn't inside the house. He was standing in Noishe's stable, a pitchfork in hand and an irritated scowl fixed on the brunet. Lloyd drew a deep breath when he noticed, then approached his friend regardless. Noishe whined happily and left the stable to meet him halfway, rubbing his head up against the man's leg in hopes of a good petting. He received just that, though Lloyd continued on his way to the stable door.  
  
“Are you still mad?”  
  
“Are you still _not_ mad?” Yuan snapped in retort, his eyes narrowing to such thin slits it was becoming hard to see.  
  
Lloyd smirked. “Very mature comeback for a guy who's over four thousand years old.”  
  
“Yet my question remains. How could you just act like nothing's wrong? Like he didn't abandon you when you needed him?”  
  
“I'm not-” He broke off abruptly, seemingly realizing this wasn't the direction he wanted this conversation to go. “You and I both know that's not what happened. No matter how mad we've been at him, the truth is that he had a duty to attend to. He had no choice.”  
  
“He had _every_ choice! And if that duty was truly so important, he should've stuck with it.” Yuan jabbed his pitchfork into the dirty straw with perhaps a bit more force than he'd intended, but he masked it by immediately raising the pile up and moving it to the cart just outside the stable.  
  
“You haven't even heard his side of the story yet.”  
  
“I have no time for petty excuses.”  
  
“You have plenty of time for his _excuses_ , and then some.” Lloyd was starting to become frustrated, that much was obvious, but Yuan ignored it. “… Just come talk to him. _Please_ , Yuan. He… I think he needs _you_.”  
  
The plea that was so evident in Lloyd's voice caught him by surprise and he looked up to see that the brunet was genuinely worried. He could feel some of his anger melt away, just enough for him to enquire into the matter. It was with a skeptical tone, but it was an enquiry nonetheless. “Why would he need me?”  
  
“He's…” Lloyd trailed off, as if not sure how to word what he was thinking. “Well, you saw it yourself, right? He's not himself. …He's not _well_ and he's not even trying to hide it. I can't get him to sleep. He barely eats. I could ask Raine to come over and take a look at him, but… I think he's losing it.”  
  
Much as Yuan wanted to argue that Kratos had never been entirely well and that he'd suffered from hefty depression on several occasions, even he had to admit that it'd never been this bad. Not even after Anna had passed away. Much as Yuan wanted to deny it, worry forced its way into his emotional state again. Not just for Kratos, but for Derris-Kharlan, because whatever had caused his old friend such harm must've been something terrible.  
  
“… Did you get him to _shower_ , at least?” he ended up asking.  
  
Lloyd couldn't quite stop himself from grinning at that. “Yeah. His personal hygiene is back to normal.”  
  
“Fine. Then I'll come. Just let me freshen up first.”  
  
Yuan jabbed the pitchfork into a nearby pile of straw, where it stayed in an upright position, then left the stable to head into the house instead. Lloyd waited outside for him, Noishe still by his side. As he changed into a freshly-laundered outfit, he wondered what he would even say to Kratos. And more importantly, what he _shouldn't_ say. There were many more things still on his mind. Things that would move to the tip of his tongue the moment he got too aggravated. He knew he shouldn't speak them; it'd just make Kratos's condition worse. However, he also knew himself well enough to accept that he'd be tempted to bring these things up.  
  
\------  
  
Yuan had to take a few calming breaths to steady himself before entering Lloyd's house, then a second time before entering the room Kratos was staying in. He knew that room. It was the one he'd always stay in whenever he'd spend the night at Lloyd's home for whatever reason. Even after that little breakdown he himself had had ninety years ago, there were still a few times when the naive simpleton had played host because he'd felt Yuan needed company. And perhaps he _had_ needed that company.  
  
Now it was Kratos who needed Lloyd by his side and vice versa. Yuan felt like in the end, he was still only a temporary stand-in for a biological father.  
  
Lloyd led the way into the guest room and Yuan followed, not at all surprised by what he saw. Kratos was sitting on the bed by the headboard, legs pulled up his chest and arms slung around them, his forehead resting on his knees. His breathing was so slow, it was almost like he was sleeping. He _wasn't_.  
  
“Lloyd, leave us. Go for a walk or something,” Yuan said, turning to face the man with a piercing gaze. He knew objections would come, and they did.  
  
“But… Maybe I should stay here in case-”  
  
“No. This conversation is private and I need you to leave. If I catch you eavesdropping, there'll be hell to pay.”  
  
Lloyd bit the inside of his cheek, then nodded. “I'll be back in a little bit,-” there was a moment of hesitation, in which he seemed to be weighing his next word, then added: “-Kratos.”  
  
Still no Dad, Yuan noted, feeling mildly victorious. He watched Lloyd leave the room, waited for the man to at least make it to the end of the hall, then turned his attention to Kratos again. His old friend had lifted his head, gaze apparently directed somewhere near Yuan's knees, but still no words came.  
  
Once again, he found himself torn between what he _wanted_ to say and what would be _wisest_ to say. Especially now that he'd gotten a better glimpse of Kratos's state. He decided to compromise, for now. “I'd say you look well, but you and I both know it'd be a lie.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
There was a moment of silence. Yuan debated taking a few steps closer, but decided against it in the end. There was no point in beating around the bush, no point in idle chitchat. He heard the front door open and close as Lloyd left the house.  
  
“I've known you far longer than your son has. I have an idea of what goes through that thick head of yours, even if I can't sympathize with it. Most importantly, I know what you look like when you're weighed down with _guilt_.”  
  
That last word caused Kratos's eyes to widen. Yuan could see right through him and now _he_ knew it too. Was it a sign of friendship or a sign of rivalry? Perhaps a mix of both. A hundred years of absence, but some things never changed. Yuan could feel his temper rising because he knew he wouldn't like what he was about to hear. Even so, he pressed on.  
  
“Tell me, Kratos. _What_ have you _done_?”  
  
  
 **To Be Continued**


	6. Chapter 6

It was evident that Yuan had struck a nerve. Kratos grit his teeth again, drawing his knees closer up against his chest. He didn't seem willing speak. He'd never been all too willing to speak when he was troubled, but Yuan wouldn't let it slide this time. Not with how much was at stake.  
  
“If you expect us to take you back with open arms, the _least_ you owe us is an explanation. Why are you here and _how_ did you make this trip?” Yuan crossed his arms over chest, peering down at the man he was once proud to call his friend. He wasn't sure what he was looking at now. A shadow of that man, he supposed. “The ties between this world and Derris-Kharlan were severed a hundred years ago. None of the transportation devices would work.”  
  
“… I found a way.” The first sentence Kratos had spoken since Yuan entered the room and it was this. Sickening.  
  
“That's not _good_ enough!” The loudness in Yuan's voice caused his old friend to flinch, but he wasn't about to back down. All bets were going off the table. “Either you tell me what you did, or I'll have no choice but to consider you a danger to everyone around you! That _includes_ Lloyd! Remember, it was _you_ who asked me to watch over him and I'll protect him from you if I have to!”  
  
His words had a resounding effect on Kratos, who cringed like he'd been jabbed with a dagger. Much as Yuan wanted to say that he'd picked them precisely because he _knew_ this was the only way to get through to Kratos, that wasn't true. It wasn't true at all. If push came to shove, he _would_ find a way to make sure Lloyd wouldn't have to come into contact with this pitiful excuse for a man anymore.  
  
“He's my son…” Kratos muttered, though it was clear he was losing whatever conviction he still had.  
  
“He _was_ your son. You forfeited any right to fatherhood when you left him with me and that dwarf,” Yuan snapped.  
  
“… I'm sorry.”  
  
“ _Kratos_.” He strode over to the bed and slammed his hand down on the cabinet beside it, causing his old friend to give another start. “You _tell_ me what you did and I might grant you some leniency, do you understand?”  
  
Kratos raised both hands to his head, fingers burying themselves in his hair. It was no longer tangled as badly as it'd been upon his arrival, but Yuan could tell the man had been playing with it and mussing it up more than once. “… The teleportation system in front of Vinheim. It was once connected to the final seal, which held the Great Seed. What was lost… was the connection between Vinheim and that place. However, what wasn't lost was the connection between the newborn World Tree and Norn's.”  
  
“ _Norn_?! You…! You dragged her into this?!”  
  
Yuan was sure his jaw might've dropped in surprise if he hadn't caught himself just in time. It was true that Martel and Norn were like sisters- children of Ratatosk's tree- and therefore shared a connection that surpassed simple physics. A connection that could theoretically be turned into a route for the teleportation system to follow. However, such a thing would require Norn herself to be the route's starting point. She'd been locked away over four thousand years ago, when Cruxis began to occupy Derris-Kharlan.  
  
None of them had been allowed to see Derris-Kharlan's Tree, by Mithos's order. None of them had _wanted_ to. The Tree was meant to grow in solitude, away from malicious intent or even distractions. The deity spirit hadn't taken kindly to that, but she hadn't had the liberty to object. Over four thousand years ago, her tree had been young and defenseless. Not anymore.  
  
“She offered her assistance with modifying the teleportation system,” Kratos muttered quietly into his knees. If Yuan hadn't had strengthened hearing, he might've missed it.  
  
“And what did she ask in return?”  
  
“…Freedom.”  
  
“You let her _out_?! You _idiot_!” Yuan slammed his hand down on the bedside cabinet again. Kratos barely twitched this time; he must've expected his friend's fury.  
  
“I had no choice. …She needed to gain control of the teleporter's domain in order to serve as a starting point. Aside from that, I… I owe her a great debt.”  
  
“You owe her _nothing_! Do you realize what you've _done_? Norn's power is not to be taken lightly! She'll use her tree to change the laws of Derris-Kharlan!”  
  
“What reason do we have to oppose that?” Kratos finally moved his hands away from his face, sliding them down to the back of his neck instead. “She will refine Derris-Kharlan's supply of mana and turn it to _life_. Plants will be born, perhaps even animals. The soil will become fertile again. Is that not the reason we allowed her to grow in peace?”  
  
“And then _this_ planet will see none of her generosity! Once the law of mana is rewritten, we'll no longer receive Derris-Kharlan's blessing any time it passes us! Hell, Norn's actions may alter the cycle so it won't pass us at all anymore!”  
  
“… Martel's tree-” Kratos began, but Yuan would have none of his objections.  
  
“-Will still be in danger the moment some idiot starts his pushing his luck with magitechnology again! We _needed_ that blessing, Kratos! It was our emergency support! Nobody gave you the right to make a decision like that on your own!”  
  
There was a bit of hypocrisy there and Yuan knew it. He simply refused to let it hinder his statements. Any reckless decisions Yuan had made in the past were meant to improve the world's situation, but this…? He didn't even know _what_ this was for.  
  
“I had no way of asking you for your opinion. … I was forced to disable most of the mainframe's functions to… to reroute its power to the teleporter modifications. That included the communication system.”  
  
“And the system that pumps water from the outer lands?” Yuan demanded, the pieces clicking further together inside his head. The matter reeked in a very literal sense.  
  
“Only in the last two months. The mainframe will resume its usual functions now that-”  
  
“What _proof_ do you have?! The mainframe has glitched before and it can happen again!”  
  
Kratos said nothing, which was likely for the best. Any argument he could've given at this point would've only fueled Yuan's anger further. His fingers curled up on the surface of the cabinet as he watched the other man closely. This wasn't right. If Kratos suspected the repercussions of his actions would be minimal, then…  
  
“There's something _else_ , isn't there?”  
  
“…What?”  
  
“If you're convinced things will work out fine on Derris-Kharlan, you wouldn't be sitting here like a pathetic waste of space. There's something _else_.”  
  
For the first time since he'd entered the room, Kratos looked up to meet Yuan's eyes. His lips curled into another insincere smile. Some sign of twisted amusement, perhaps. “We've known each other for too long, haven't we?”  
  
“ _Out_ with it!”  
  
Despite how hard Yuan attempted to maintain that eye contact, Kratos's gaze moved back to his knees. His hands moved back up to his face, palms rubbing at his eyes. Yuan felt a mad urge to punch him. Drawing answers out of this man was like drawing blood from a stone.  
  
“Even with the core system providing additional support, there wasn't enough power to jumpstart the teleportation device. It needed…” Kratos broke off for a moment, drawing a deep breath. It was like he was starting to have a bit of trouble drawing air into his lungs properly. “It needed a catalyst.”  
  
“What did you use?”  
  
At last they were getting to the truth of the matter; he could tell as much from the way Kratos was behaving himself. Far worse, far more unhinged than Yuan had ever seen him. The man began rocking back and forth. Calmly, gently and in complete contrast with the way he was breathing. It was probably for the best he was covering his face, because Yuan didn't like to imagine what kind of expression he was wearing.  
  
Silence fell, so Yuan tried again, more forceful this time. “ _What_ did you use?! Dammit Kratos, if you don't tell me _right now_ -”  
  
“Lives.”  
  
The word fell between them like something heavy and Yuan recoiled, just for a moment. In hindsight, he should've guessed this much. “How many?”  
  
“Ten. …Black mages. They cast a spell under my orders. It proved to be... too taxing.”  
  
The image left a bitter taste in Yuan's mouth and he found himself gritting his teeth. This whole thing was getting more insane by the minute. To think Kratos, of all people, could've stooped this low. They'd taken lives for their own benefit before. They'd done so quite a lot over the past four thousand years. Death seemed to follow them wherever they went, but knowing that never made it easier. That was why they'd been aiming for redemption in the first place.  
  
“You sacrificed ten of the lives you were supposed to protect, so you could give up on your responsibilities and come running back home?” he finally hissed.  
  
Kratos still didn't raise his head, though at the very least he stopped rocking himself. “I'd thought that you… of all people… would agree those beings had no true lives to lose.”  
  
Yuan's hand curled into a fist. He was close, so _close_ to punching his old friend. Close to grabbing him and giving him a rough shake, forcing him to snap out of it because _this wasn't right_. None of this was worth the effort. No matter how much they'd missed Kratos, no matter how much Kratos may have missed _them_ … This decision should never have been made. It was nothing but selfish. In the end, all he could do was draw a deep breath and ram his hand into the bedside cabinet one last time.  
  
“I don't know who you're trying convince- Me or _yourself_. Either way, it's a pitiful display! And don't you _dare_ claim it was worth it!” He turned and strode towards the door. He shouldn't be here right now. He'd promised Lloyd he'd behave himself, but if he stayed in Kratos' near vicinity any longer, accidents might happen. …No, not accidents, purposeful attacks.  
  
“Yuan…” Even Kratos' tone of voice was pathetic now. Yuan couldn't bring himself to face the man anymore. He just kept his gaze firmly on the door handle. Everyone had a breaking point and this was his.  
  
“No. I'm done with this conversation and I'm done with _you_. You'd better stay the hell away from me and if I find out you're trying to drag Lloyd down to hell with you, I'll ram a sword through your chest personally!”  
  
With that said, he pulled the door open, strode into the hallway and slammed it shut behind himself. It was only too clear now that the man who'd returned from Derris-Kharlan had very few shreds of Kratos Aurion still left inside him. It stung much more than Yuan had wanted it to.

\------

The moment Yuan stepped out of the house and took a breath of fresh air, he felt his anger subside somewhat. Even so, he didn't stop and look back. He stood by his decision and left. This time, it didn't take Lloyd too long to seek Yuan out at all. Only an hour after he'd returned home, he felt the man's presence approach and soon after, there was a round of impatient banging on his front door.

Tempted as he was not to answer, he knew he didn't have much of a choice. Lloyd would force his way inside regardless. He always did. Going by the insistence of the knocking, Yuan was in for a lecture. Lloyd was picking Kratos's side without knowing the full story. How predictable. How _ironic_. He breathed a bit of a frustrated sigh before pushing himself up from the kitchen chair and abandoning the cup of tea he'd just made.

As Yuan expected, he pulled the door open to reveal a man who looked like he was seething with anger. A man who got the first accusation in before Yuan could even open his mouth. “What have you _done_?”

“Lloyd.” He spoke the name with as much composure as he could muster. Did Kratos go crying to his son after being confronted with the consequences of his selfish actions? Who was the real child here?

“I told you to _talk_ to him!”

“And I did. Apparently, he didn't like what I had to say.”

For a few seconds, Lloyd seemed lost for words. He opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head violently and tried again. “You...! You're the _worst_.”

“Excuse me? _I'm_ the worst?”

The hypocrisy was like a slap to the face. He refused to tell Lloyd just what Kratos had done for the sake of both Aurions, though he had to wonder why he was protecting his old friend. It'd serve him right for his own son to be disgusted with him.

Now it was _Yuan_ who was the target of Lloyd's rage. It was _him_ who was accused of being the bad guy, when his only crime was keeping Kratos's son in the dark about his latest sins. After all, Lloyd didn't _know_ , right? Considering the way Yuan had to drag the information out into the light, he doubted Kratos would have shared it with his son that easily.

“You're his friend! You're supposed to _help_ him, not make it worse!” Lloyd's words were fierce, like a brutal attack.

“All I did was tell him the truth. If he chooses to wallow in self-pity because of it, that's his fault, not mine.”

Something inside Lloyd seemed to snap and he moved so fast that Yuan couldn't stop him. A split second later, he felt the man's hands digging into the fabric of his shirt, near his collar- near his _throat_. The ferocity of the action caused Yuan to freeze in place, because it'd been almost a century since Lloyd had last lost his temper like this.

“You _bastard_! Don't you have even the tiniest shred of sympathy for _anyone_?!”

“ _Sympathy_?” He repeated the word with such disbelief that he heard his voice reach a tone that was uncharacteristically high. Why should he have sympathy for Kratos?

“After everything he's been through!”

“Don't be stupid. Spending a century on Derris-Kharlan is hardly torture. It isn't as if there was anyone left who could've made his life miserable.”

If it'd been more, then perhaps Yuan would've agreed, but what was a century in the life of someone who was over four thousand years old? Even so, he saw Lloyd's eyes widen in realization. The man's hands released their grip on Yuan's shirt and he stepped backwards immediately.

“... You didn't bother to ask, did you?”

It took an additional second for Yuan to realize that the odd note in Lloyd's voice was something similar to disappointment. He scoffed loudly, but even so, he felt his confidence sink somewhat. Evidently, there was something about Kratos's story that he was still missing. One more piece to the puzzle. “Ask what?”

“Why he came back in the first place. ...Why he couldn't stay up there any longer.”

That notion caused Yuan to frown. It hadn't been because Kratos was homesick? That was what he'd assumed, though now that he gave it another thought... Indeed, what was a century in the life of someone who was four thousand years old? Would Kratos truly have gotten so homesick in less than a hundred years' time that he would be willing to step over corpses to leave it all behind? To leave his _duty_ behind?

“I...” Shame began to flood through him when he realized that he _hadn't_ asked. He'd gone straight on to the ‘how' and neglected the ‘ _why_ '. He'd scolded Kratos for actions that he couldn't have judged without knowing the motivation behind them. Going by Lloyd's expression, it wasn't something easily disregarded.

“You have to learn to _listen_ , Yuan.” The brunet shook his head, another sign of disappointment. “I already told you. He's not well. He _had_ to come back because... Well, I guess it was my fault too. I should've thought to give him the Derris Emblem before he left.”

“The Derris Emblem?” Now there was a combination of words Yuan hadn't been expecting to hear. The gift from Ratatosk; a charm to protect its owner from dark magic. What had happened to that thing again? Hadn't it been on Derris-Kharlan itself? Evidently not.

“Yeah. If he'd had it, he could've defended himself.” Lloyd was biting the inside of his cheek, looking every bit as guilty as Yuan now felt.

He knew he wouldn't like the answer, but he pressed on regardless. “Against what?”

“...One last trap set by Mithos.”

Yuan knew exactly what sort of horror to picture. He'd known of those traps- he'd helped Mithos _develop_ them. Ambushes made of dark magic, designed to target the victim's greatest weaknesses. Designed to make them helpless, to sway them towards the ideals of Cruxis. If intruders were to stumble into one of them, Mithos would know immediately. Yet in the past century, Mithos had no longer been alive. No one would have been alerted, had a trap been triggered.

“That's...” He wasn't sure how to continue that sentence, so he didn't bother to try.

Lloyd shrugged his shoulders in an uncomfortable manner, not quite meeting his eyes. He'd told Yuan about his own experiences with Mithos's traps before. Just once, in passing. It'd left quite an impression, as had everything else relating to the leader of Cruxis. “Apparently he triggered it by accident almost thirty years ago. There was no way for him to break it on his own. If one of the angels hadn't been assigned a periodic check, he might never have gotten out at all.”

“... How long was he stuck in there?”

“He's not really sure. About ten years.”

“ _Ten_ -” Yuan's voice ended up failing him. Ten years of mental torture. Ten years of reflecting on every mistake he'd made, every _failure_ , every loved one lost. Ten years of illusions. Ten years of phantoms who looked just like people he'd known, attempting to lead him astray.

It was no wonder Kratos had ended up like this. Ten years was nothing in the life of a seraph, yet an eternity in the life of someone who was no stranger to suffering. Yuan still couldn't forgive him for sacrificing lives and gambling with the future of Derris-Kharlan, but at the very least, he could _understand_ now. Kratos was a flimsy shell of his former self because Mithos's traps were designed to achieve that result. Broken people were far easier to mold to Cruxis's advantage.

“After he was freed...” Lloyd trailed off, squinting at an area near Yuan's feet. “He had trouble telling the difference between what was real and what wasn't. He still does. Part of him is convinced we're just another hallucination. That he's still on Derris-Kharlan. I mean... Mithos's traps didn't have the power to recreate entire surroundings, I'm pretty sure, but... The mind can play tricks, he said.”

“So it's his sanity that's the problem,” Yuan concluded. He could taste something bitter in the back of his mouth at the mere notion of it all. To think that even in death, Mithos could still cause them such irreparable harm... It was sickening.

“Yeah... He didn't come back here to see me, or even you. He came back here because being home was his best shot at recovery. Being in a place like Welgaia, surrounded by his past mistakes... I don't think it was all that much of a step up from Mithos's trap.”

Did this excuse what Kratos had done? Was it worth leaving the fate of Derris-Kharlan in the hands of Norn and the lifeless beings? Were ten black mages worth less than Kratos's sanity? ...No, not at all. It added a factor of sympathy to the man's actions- the sympathy that Lloyd had insisted should be there- nothing more.

Yuan scoffed and snatched up his keys, then moved himself through the door and shut it behind himsef. “Let's go. Evidently, I need to have another _talk_ with him.”

“Will you be nicer to him, this time?” Lloyd asked.

“... It'd be best that I don't make promises I may not keep.”

\------

Kratos was gone.

He was not in the house, nor even the immediate area. It was concerning- even more so when Lloyd pointed out that Kratos hadn't left the house once in the past few days. Whatever it was that would have convinced him to venture out in his condition, it must've been a strong impulse. Without a Rheaird, he could only have flown with his wings. It was a relatively slow method of transport, meaning they could easily catch up to him.

The trouble was, they didn't know where he'd gone.

Their first guess was the World Tree, as it lay not too far from Lloyd's house. It was the place most closely connected to Derris-Kharlan, which still loomed overhead. Much to their dismay, Martel confirmed that Kratos hadn't shown himself there at all.

Lloyd suggested splitting up. They could cover more ground that way. Yuan agreed, albeit reluctantly. Facing Kratos by himself was an unappealing prospect. Lloyd would head to Dirk's old house, where the remains of Anna's grave still lay. Lloyd had replaced the headstone once to return the sight to its former glory, with fresh bouquets of flowers being delivered every other week. There were cliffs nearby as well- the location where Anna had perished more than a century ago. When it came to sentimentality, the direction of Iselia forest was a good one to choose.

As for Yuan, he headed south west, towards Heimdall. When it came to twisted dramatics, as Kratos was prone to, _this_ was the direction to take. Some of the elves may have spotted him flying overhead- may have sensed a half-elven presence. It mattered very little to Yuan. He'd never abided by elven rules before. If he wanted to set foot on their sacred land, no one would dare to stop him.

He landed a short distance from his destination, stowing the Rheaird inside its wing pack. The last thing he wanted was to alarm Kratos. It was clear now that the man was here, as his presence was smeared all over the place in an almost unnatural fashion. It prickled at Yuan's senses, filling him with nostalgia that wasn't entirely welcome.

It was almost as if- No. _Shit_.

Yuan broke into a sprint, pushing aside branches as he went. A particularly nasty prickled bush almost tripped him up, tearing gashes in the fabric of his pants. The stinging sensation indicated that he may have been bleeding, but it didn't slow him down in the least. Within ten seconds' time, he'd made it into the clearing. There, before the stone slate dedicated to Origin, lay Kratos Aurion's body.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Chapter 7

“You _bastard_! Don't you _dare_...!”  
  
It couldn't end like this. Not now, not here.  
  
Yuan fell to his knees heavily, his fingers shooting towards Kratos's own. Despite how much of it had already taken flight to taint the clearing, there was still a trace of mana left inside the man's body. His lungs drew minimal breath and his heart beat at a very slow, quiet pace. Perhaps the point of no return had already been passed.  
  
“Don't you _DARE_ run away!!!”  
  
The shout was so forceful, it hurt Yuan's throat. Overwhelmed by his frustration and perhaps even _desperation_ , the danger of a mana transfer was but a minimal speck in the back of his mind. It was the same now as it had been back then; it was a risk that he was willing to take. He couldn't allow his closest companion to die. He _wouldn't_ allow it.  
  
He pulled his friend away from the ground, into something resembling a sitting position. Whether holding Kratos in his arms would make any difference when it came to results, he didn't know. He liked to think that the more physical contact, the easier it would be for mana to travel, though a more theoretical part of him had to admit it likely didn't work that way. Theoretics be damned. He'd always depended on blind luck anyway. Whatever superstitions might help at this point, he'd take them. He closed his eyes as he concentrated, but the glow of mana made its way even through the lids.  
  
“You selfish, cowardly _prick_...!”  
  
Kratos had always had a love for dramatic irony. It was that same love that had prompted him to pull this exact same scheme a hundred years ago. To die here, where they had once been granted the Eternal Sword by Origin himself... It was predictable in a manner only a lunatic would prefer. That was exactly why Lloyd had come to warn Yuan, wasn't it? Suicide had been a very real threat from the moment it was noted that Kratos 'wasn't well'. Yuan should've acknowledged it as well.  
  
It was becoming more difficult to breathe. If Yuan's eyes hadn't been closed, perhaps his sight would've begun to fail him. His own mana levels were steadily dropping, but it didn't seem to be enough. Kratos had lost so much that replenishing it had become a road with no foreseeable destination. Or perhaps it was more like attempting to refill a dried-up lake using a bucket. If he gave up now, he could still save himself. The trouble was, Yuan was no quitter.  
  
“I wo-won't let you... _go_...!”  
  
Not this time. Not again. Kratos had been a constant presence for as long as Yuan could remember, and even _before_ he could remember. It was for that exact reason that his departure had hurt the way it had. Kratos had always had a tendency to try and leave him behind, yet he'd never succeeded in shaking Yuan off. Not until a hundred years ago, when Derris-Kharlan had left orbit. He hadn't lost a friend so much as an extension of himself- something as vital as a limb. Kratos had willed it to happen that way. Kratos willed it, even now.  
  
It was unacceptable.  
  
“Kratos... Stay wi-with me... _Stay_...!”  
  
There was no one else like Kratos. No one else could stand on that level, not even Lloyd. Kratos was his peer, his fellow, his rival and his closest friend. Kratos had understood him in a way that no other had; not even Martel, for she'd been far too pure to sympathize with Yuan's dark outlook on the world. Despite that tendency to run away, Kratos had supported him more than once. Kratos had acknowledged him as someone worthwhile. Kratos had always made him feel like he was more than just a half-elf, more than just a soldier, more than just a _renegade_. Kratos had been standing several levels above Yuan from the start, only to reach out to him and pull him up there as well.  
  
Thoughts were losing their grip on coherency. Overcome by spite, he realized that dying alongside Kratos would be a delicious bit of revenge. He was sure, after all, that Kratos would not have wanted to drag anyone else down with him. There would be accusations of 'foolishness' if the man knew and Yuan would, in turn, find it hypocritical.  
  
“Y-You damned- _You_...-”  
  
What was he trying to say? Why was he even saying it? It was pointless, wasn't it?  
  
Kratos's body was slipping from his arms, so he leaned forward to rest it on the ground instead. His forehead came to rest against the man's chest and he couldn't bring himself to lift it up anymore. His own body had become so heavy, his muscles couldn't support its weight. Exhaustion was washing over him. Something stirred within his hand and it took him a few seconds to realize that it would have to be Kratos's fingers.  
  
A glimmer of hope sparked somewhere in the back of his head, then died out as he lost consciousness.  
  
\------  
  
Something was touching him. It was pressing against his jaw and the back of his neck. He cringed and stirred, lacking the energy to raise a hand and swat it away. Was he hungover? It felt similar enough, yet at the same time, oddly different.  
  
_Fingers_. He was being touched by fingers.  
  
His eyes snapped open, only to be greeted with darkness and the purple shade of whatever his face was pressing up against. What the hell sort of position had he fallen asleep in? He was kneeling, his left arm caught between the ground and whatever was serving as his cushion. It was doing a poor job of that last part. It was...-  
  
Breath caught in the back of his throat and he straightened his spine to sit up straight, no matter how much his body protested against it. His arm slid out from behind Kratos's back, taking the pins and needles with it. The circulation must've been cut off for quite a while. He peered down at his friend, noting that he was being watched in turn from behind inconvenient bangs of auburn. Immediately uncomfortable, Yuan raised a hand to his face as a distraction, pressing against his temple. There was a migraine taking form.  
  
“How long was I out...?” he asked, though part of him dreaded the answer.  
  
“Only... a few minutes,” was Kratos's hoarse response.  
  
Still far too long for his liking, though not as long as he'd expected, then. He grit his teeth and snorted against his palm. “You have to stop _doing_ this. It seriously will be the death of me, some day.”  
  
“I... I apologize. I never... meant for you to...-”  
  
“To _find out_ before it was too late?” Yuan guessed, his voice reaching the oddest pitch of fury. “ _Damn_ it all, Kratos! This isn't the answer! It never _will_ be the answer, no matter how much hell you go through- or how much hell you put _us_ through! I don't _need_ your worthless apologies! How about a 'thank you' instead?”  
  
No such thing came, of course. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kratos turn his head to the side, away from Yuan's general direction. The possibility dawned that perhaps, there was something that'd been broken so thoroughly it could never be fixed. That Mithos's last trap had fulfilled its purpose and smashed Kratos Aurion to pieces.  
  
But then... Even before that, Kratos had already _been_ cracked and chipped. Over the course of the last four thousand years, their 'Lord Yggdrasill' had slowly whittled away at him. Yuan had already known about this; he'd witnessed it from afar and never stepped in, not even with all the suspicions.  
  
“You want rest... I know that. I _get_ it,” Yuan admitted. Lloyd would punch him for it if he knew; Yuan would admit that much as well. It didn't stop him one bit. “Life is horrendous, sometimes. We've been suffering for far too long already. It'd be nice to just... be at peace, not having to worry about anything anymore. I'd be lying if I said I haven't considered ending it more than once, myself. Problem is, you can't undo it. Once you go, that's it. There's no going back. I, for one, would hate to make a mistake that can't ever be fixed. I have responsibilities to tend to- we _both_ do. Don't think you can just dump all this on _my_ shoulders!”  
  
A wry smile dawned on Kratos's lips; Yuan could see it even at his current angle. His query was something of a whisper. “You expect me to thank you... for sentiments like that?”  
  
Looking at it like that, it certainly felt like Yuan was prolonging his friend's suffering. Perhaps it would've been more merciful to grant Kratos's wish and allow him to pass on. Still, Lloyd had rubbed off on him. With the insistence that life was precious came the pressing notion that Kratos was _wrong_.  
  
“ _Yes_ , I do. I can't exactly cover up the truth- sometimes life is a living hell. It's up to you to make it better.” Yuan paused for a moment, stretching out the fingers of his left hand. The tingling sensation was finally beginning to subside. “... I couldn't _stand_ you. Not a hundred years ago, nor even four thousand. I hated you because you had everything- it came so _easy_ to you. The son of a noble, destined for greatness... Your strength, your title, your _companions_ \- It was all handed to you on a silver platter and you kept casting those things aside, while I had to fight hard battles to gain even a sliver of that happiness. I was so envious... I resented you, but part of me still respected you, and I resented that I respected you. I suppose that part of me hoped if I stuck around you long enough, even the tiniest bit of your luck would spread to me. I don't think it ever did.”  
  
“What's... your point?” Kratos asked.  
  
Yuan's hand curled into a fist and smacked down against the ground. Pain shot up his knuckles upon impact. “You _idiot_! Isn't it obvious? If you'd stayed a hundred years ago and appreciated what you had, you would've found life worth living! Lloyd would've renewed that fight inside you. Even now, it's not too late. He'll keep trying until he gets through that thick, stubborn skull of yours. He got through to someone like me, anyway, so that's a solid testament to his determination.”  
  
Kratos breathed a quiet “heh” of bitter amusement and rolled his head over to face Yuan again. He looked more tired than ever. “Are you saying... he was the one who taught you to be more mature, as opposed to the other way around?”  
  
“It was a bit of both, honestly. I get the feeling you expected that much to happen when you left him in my care.” Yuan shrugged, even when Kratos neither confirmed nor denied the suspicion. “He's over a hundred years old and he's gotten a lot smarter, but he's still a kid at heart. A kid who wants to know his father. He can't learn these things through hearsay from me; he needs _you_.”  
  
“Does he really...?”  
  
“Why do you keep _questioning_ me? I'm not lying to pawn him off on you, if that's what you're thinking. Much as I hate to admit it, I've actually grown attached to having him around. But... Well, I'm willing to _share_ him, is my point.”  
  
Kratos's eyes slipped shut and he drew a few deep breaths. In a way, it was a familiar, encouraging sight. It implied that the man was beginning to accept defeat. The confirmation followed soon after. “What was that you said earlier...? About protecting him from me?”  
  
“A bunch of hot air, is what that was,” Yuan snapped. “He's already worried sick about you, so the damage is done either way. The only way to protect Lloyd now is to force your hand towards recovery, so we can _both_ stop wondering what sort of stupid thing you'll do next.”  
  
Kratos chuckled. It was a strained, wheezing sort of sound that chilled Yuan to his very bones. It felt as if a single battle was being won, which had no impact on the rest of the war that was being waged. All the more reason to keep fighting, Yuan supposed.  
  
“You told Lloyd not to die before you did,” he began. “That means that once you go, you're giving _him_ permission to give up. I'm not about to let that slide, so guess what? _You_ don't get to die until _I_ die.”  
  
That was certainly enough to wipe the smile off Kratos's face again. Though his gaze was unfocused, the man stared at Yuan's knees with evident surprise. “You...”  
  
“If you can demand that from Lloyd, I can demand it from _you_ , so don't think for even a second I'm being unreasonable. Besides... I'm sick of being left behind. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you died before me, so I won't _let_ you. Once I'm gone, you'll be able to do whatever the hell you want, but not a second sooner, understand?”  
  
Kratos was silent for the longest time. His eyelids drooped, the corners of his lips twitched and his fingers scraped along the dirt. Then, finally, he relented with a minimal nod of the head. “... I understand.”  
  
\------  
  
Even with the physical benefits of Yuan's Cruxis Crystal, getting Kratos all the way back to Lloyd's house had been a hell of a chore. The mana transfer had done a number on Yuan's strength and just like that, lifting a grown man with the muscle capacity of a ragdoll onto a Rheaird had become a challenging trial. Holding onto him with one arm while maintaining steady flight with the other had pushed his limits. Supporting Kratos's weight as he attempted to move the man to Lloyd's door had left him cursing quietly.  
  
It was a good thing, then, that Lloyd was already home.  
  
The front door swung open before they even reached it, forcing Yuan to come to a halt again. Lloyd stormed towards them, radiating a perfect mixture of shock and worry. “Kratos! Yuan- you found him! What happened?! Is he-”  
  
“ _Fine_ ,” Yuan cut across him. “He'll be fine. Help me get him inside, will you?”  
  
“R-Right.”  
  
Lloyd took hold of Kratos's other arm to sling it over his shoulder and together, they lifted him over the threshold. At this point, it seemed as if Yuan's old friend was barely conscious, if at all. While dropping him in the nearest chair was an awfully appealing option, it wasn't quite good enough. Proper rest could only happen in bed. They couldn't brave the stairs to get to the guest room, so Lloyd darted up to grab a pillow and blankets by himself.  
  
Five minutes later, Kratos was resting on the floor nearby while Yuan was sitting at the table, his aching head cushioned by his folded arms. Tempting as it was to stick with a 'never again' opinion, he knew it'd be a lie. Should the necessity arise, he'd resort to a mana transfer a third time. A fourth, a fifth- however many times it took.  
  
“So... Are you going to tell me what happened?” Lloyd asked. There was the scrape of a chair as he situated himself across from Yuan.  
  
He wished that he wouldn't have to. That he could keep Kratos's secrets. The trouble was, Lloyd was no longer a child. Lloyd was a grown man with every right to know just what sort of person they were dealing with.  
  
“Don't tell me you haven't guessed it already,” Yuan ultimately growled. “Kratos will be Kratos. But... You were right. He _has_ lost it. I don't know whether being home will fix it. I don't know whether either of _us_ can fix it. It might've been an inevitability.”  
  
Lloyd could say what he wanted about Kratos needing _him_ , but if he were honest with himself, Yuan had no clue what to do. He'd never been there for his friend before. He hadn't offered any support when Kratos's home was destroyed by the Mana Cannon, nor when Princess Soleille passed away a few years later, nor even after Anna was killed and Lloyd was presumed dead. All that time, Yuan had thought only of himself and his own happiness; his own _goals_. Kratos's decline had been inevitable because during those rare moments when the man's luck had run out, Yuan had failed to catch him and instead left him in the hands of someone like Mithos Yggdrasill.  
  
“So... What do we do?” he heard Lloyd ask.  
  
“I don't know.” Yuan tilted his head a bit to make himself more comfortable, peering towards the wall. “...Keep a close eye on him, I suppose. Keep him out of trouble. He may recover on his own; he's done it before.”  
  
“Before?”  
  
“ _Before_ ,” Yuan confirmed. “Don't act as if I haven't told you this. Kratos has been through plenty of tragedy in his lifetime and at times, it got the best of him. When his composure's gone, it's gone. He always bounced back after a while, but then... I don't remember it ever being this bad.”  
  
“Are you sure I shouldn't ask Raine to take a look at him? She might know some sort of spell.”  
  
“Healing magic heals the _physical_ , Lloyd. Not the mental. He hasn't been cursed, nor injured.”  
  
“... Right.”  
  
Yuan was silent for a moment, his brain struggling to connect a few dots. “That said, Kratos's physical condition isn't exactly at its peak. Raine may have enough bedside manner to deal with some of the mental portions as well. So... By all means. Invite her if you wish.”  
  
“Then, I _will_!” Lloyd replied without missing a beat. “... What about you? Will you be alright?”  
  
“I'll be fine. I'm going home to get some sleep.” Much as his legs appeared to be crying out in protest, he pushed himself to his feet. His hands were placed against the small of his back and he curled his spine inward, eliciting a bit of a crack. He was getting too old for this, he felt.  
  
“If you say so...”  
  
“I'll be back tomorrow,” he decided. “And I'm bringing Noishe, so you'd best prepare the old stable for him.”  
  
Lloyd frowned up at him, looking a bit lost. “Why would Noishe need the old stable? I get that he'll want to see Kratos, but...”  
  
“Noishe is a dear old friend. Not to mention, a soothing presence. He did wonders for me when I was on the brink of losing it, but I don't need him anymore. It's time to return him to his rightful owner.”  
  
\------  
  
Raine's visit had been very little help. While she'd lived up to her reputation as a healer and mended the physical, the mental remained the same as it'd been when Kratos first returned. The man barely answered her questions and even when he did, Yuan noted that he couldn't hold Raine's gaze for too long. Perhaps most tragic of all was the fact that Kratos did not seem to truly remember her. He knew her name and he knew exactly who she'd been, yet nothing beyond that. Her appearance seemed to stir no recognition, nor did he show an active interest in her current life.  
  
After a hundred years of Derris-Kharlan, Raine Sage had become just another face in the crowd to Kratos Aurion. The amount of time spent with her had, over the course of the century, grown insignificant. Such was the fate of long-lived seraphim, Yuan supposed.  
  
Raine had been forced to accept there was no immediate action for her to take. With that, she left in the same manner she always had; with a warm promise to see Lloyd again soon and a rather formal nod of the head towards Yuan. Regards would be passed on to her brother, which came across as passive aggressive, as Yuan hadn't asked her to do so. Still, he didn't take it personally; he couldn't fault her for keeping her distance from someone like him. They could get along when they needed to, yet that was about the extent of it.  
  
Once, after they'd had a few too many drinks, Lloyd had suggested that Yuan should 'get together' with Raine. Yuan had laughed and laughed at the notion.  
  
Now they were back where they started; attempting to figure out a plan for a future that could stretch beyond decades. They'd seated themselves on the bench outside the house, by the stable. Noishe was lying beside them. They knew that, should Kratos make an attempt, he would be able to hear their conversation from the guest room. Still, Yuan refused to go out of his way for privacy. If Kratos caught them complaining, he'd simply have to deal with their words.  
  
Lloyd had taken to lounging on the wooden bench, taking up as much space as a person physically could. His arms were propped up on the back of the bench, leaving Yuan with very little room of his own. He was smiling, though it was lacking in sincerity. “You know, it's funny. In all those years, I always held hope that Kratos would find a way to return some day. That he'd _stick around_ this time, and I could get to know him better. I suppose I got exactly what I wished for, but...”  
  
“Mmh... Not all it's cracked up to be, is it?”  
  
“Not one bit.”  
  
A brief, quiet laugh escaped Yuan. He glanced towards the stream, the surface reflecting Derris-Kharan's eerie glow. There was only one day left of its blessing. Tomorrow, the journey through space would continue and they would not have this view for another century at the least. Perhaps they'd never have this view again.  
  
“Kratos has always been troublesome in his own ways,” Yuan noted just as much to himself as to Lloyd. “A hundred years ago, you were too busy admiring his physical strength to notice it. You put him on such a high pedestal that you couldn't catch a glimpse of all those faults.”  
  
“Oh, come on. You have to admit, he was pretty cool back then,” Lloyd argued beside him.  
  
“Yes, he was. He was quite the _cool_ , conceited, selfish bastard. And so was I.”  
  
“I can say with absolute certainty that _you've_ changed, because you're not cool anymore.”  
  
Yuan flinched despite himself, then rammed his elbow into Lloyd's chest; not hard enough to hurt, only to have the man double up in reflex. “I'm still ten times cooler than you will ever be.”  
  
“Gggh... You _wish_...!” Lloyd shoved him with one arm, though it did little good. Yuan hardly budged.  
  
“Regardless, our next move is clear.” Rather, it _should_ have been clear. The moment Yuan caught sight of a bemused expression, he realized he'd given Lloyd too much credit. A sigh passed his lips. “You can't take care of him by yourself. Neither could I, for that matter. If I took him in, all my other duties would fall short. Hell, I wouldn't even be able to take a shit with the necessary peace of mind.”  
  
“Thanks for that image.” Lloyd crinkled his nose with disgust, which only served to fuel Yuan's own smirk.  
  
“Kratos is another shared responsibility of ours, so I'm going to pack some things and move back in here for the time being. Assuming I have your permission, that is.”  
  
“Uhh... Sure, if you really want to.”  
  
“And I'm certain this might give Kratos the impression that he's being a _burden_ ,” Yuan continued in a rather loud tone of voice, his eyes shooting towards the guest room window. “That we might be better off he were to remove himself from our lives. If indeed that would be his line of thinking, I would have to call him an _idiot_. Having to hunt him down again would be a far greater burden.”  
  
Lloyd's apprehensive gaze moved between Yuan and the house, from which no sign of acknowledgment came. Then, he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “Do you think he heard that?”  
  
“Oh, I _know_ he heard that.” There was another moment of silence and Yuan shrugged. “Well, whatever. He'll join us out here when he's good and ready. Until then, let's just leave him to his brooding.”  
  
“You know, every so often I forget that you can be a good friend when you actually _try_ ,” Lloyd said with one of the most devious grins to ever grace his features.  
  
Yuan rammed his elbow into the man's ribcage again, triggering a loud “oof” and another shove.  
  
  
**To Be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8

Derris-Kharlan had left. The sky was back to its usual blue and while Yuan was somewhat curious to hear what the world's population had thought of the phenomenon, he had no time to investigate. Between guarding Yggdrasill, watching Kratos and caring for _himself_ , trips to the nearest city fell short. Would people be speaking of the second coming of Cruxis? A wide assortment of stories regarding the incident a hundred years ago had been passed down, which was certain to make for colorful interpretations. Perhaps large groups had flocked to the remaining churches of Martel to pray. Wouldn't that be ironic?  
  
Either way, Yuan had watched the comet's departure with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Kratos trusted Norn not to abuse her freedom and influence over Derris-Kharlan, which was hardly a shared sentiment. They might never see the blessing of mana again. With Ratatosk's own ritual to take some of the pressure off Martel still ongoing, it felt as if the future looked quite uncertain.  
  
With a sense of normality came a sense of calm- perhaps even light malaise. Living in the same house as Lloyd had already been too much to bear for too long, which was precisely why Yuan had returned to his solitude when he was well enough. Now there was Kratos to factor into the equation, and what a factor that was. Yuan was convinced that he himself hadn't been this bad during his period of depression- or whatever it'd been- though that didn't stop him from reflecting on how tough it must've been on Lloyd. As it turned out, convincing a man to eat when he strictly didn't _need_ to eat was one hell of an ordeal. Convincing Kratos to do much of _anything_ was an ordeal.  
  
With the absence of a second guest room, Yuan had set up some semblance of a bed on the first floor, beneath the stairs that led up from the sitting area. Resting on the floor was hardly problematic. Kratos had insisted more than once that it should be the other way around, but Yuan wouldn't hear of it. To grant comfort to the one who was still recovering was common sense.  
  
Yuan had never been a particularly deep sleeper, with or without Cruxis Crystal. Being ever on guard had become a way of life. When he was roused from slumber in the middle of the night by a sharp creak, reflexes made their move before coherency did. He was sitting up straight immediately, breath halted and lightning crackling between his fingers at lack for a better weapon. There was a shady figure standing by the window across the room and-  
  
-And it was only Kratos.  
  
A silent curse escaped him and as the sparks of lightning faded into nothing, his surroundings grew dark once more. His old friend was nothing more than a silhouette against the moon outside and Yuan was glad he couldn't quite make out any facial features. Kratos didn't _seem_ too startled, but then, body language could only say so much.  
  
“I didn't mean to wake you,” came familiar tones. It was hard to determine whether Kratos was apologetic, downcast or even frustrated with himself.  
  
“I'd be surprised if it were otherwise,” Yuan grumbled. He was about to ask what it was that had his friend up and about when a delayed realization hit him; Kratos was fully-clothed. “Damn it all, if you're trying to sneak out again...!”  
  
“No. I wasn't- I...-” Kratos drew a deep breath and shook his head before trying again. “I was watching the stars, only... the room upstairs was growing a bit too... small.”  
  
Yuan's mind insisted that it was a shitty excuse, until he decided to entertain the alternative. Kratos had _been_ dressed all night because he had no intention of going to bed. “How long has it been since you slept? And I don't mean losing consciousness- I mean actual, _intentional_ slumber.”  
  
“I don't recall.”  
  
“Give me some indication, here. A month? A year? A _decade_?”  
  
“I don't... Hm. It matters very little. You know as well as I do that the Cruxis Crystal-”  
  
“ _No_!” Yuan hissed across any further prattling. Much as he wanted to avoid waking Lloyd, keeping his voice in check was a bit of a struggle. “ _You_ know as well as I do that the Cruxis Crystal is not infallible. The body might not need to rest, but the brain does...! You can't force it to keep going for days- _years_ on end.”  
  
Yuan couldn't deny just how alluring the notion was. To sleep meant to dream, to dream meant to open oneself up to fiction. Dreams held happiness that wasn't real, along with threats that _felt_ only too real. Yuan had wished a life without sleep on himself more than once, only to come to the same conclusion every single time: it wasn't meant to be. Lifeless beings with no true will nor thoughts could go without rest, not fickle would-be mortals like them. If he'd ever doubted it before, his periods of insomnia had proven the theory without fail.  
  
Kratos didn't respond, nor even meet his eye. Instead, the man's gaze was caught somewhere by the foot of the stairs. He looked tense. Was he expecting their third housemate to show up? Yuan listened for the sound of steps or creaking floorboards, yet all was silent.  
  
“ _Get_ over here,” he whispered, losing his patience. “You don't need to put half a house between us when I'm talking to you.”  
  
Easy as the command had been, it took a moment for Kratos to reassemble his scattered brain and do as he was told. He stepped away from the window and crouched down by Yuan's feet. In turn, Yuan sat up a bit straighter and tucked stray bangs behind his ear. Bedhead was almost as grand a downside to sleeping as nightmares were. Keeping it all tied back in a ponytail did little to alleviate the problem.  
  
“Listen,” he began, because he knew that his friend might be tempted to block him out. “It's not about what your body needs or doesn't need, it's about _living_. It's about the routine and the mundane. We've spent far too long thinking we were above mere mortals, but we're not. Sometimes, you just have to sit by a fire and let yourself feel the heat. You have to go out and chop wood for it- and if you get a splinter, you have to allow it to hurt. You have to get drunk and endure the consequences in the morning. And- hell- sometimes you just have to jerk off. The second you stop indulging in all those little things is the second you become a... An um...” Yuan faltered with the words he was looking for just long enough for Kratos to fill in the blanks.  
  
“A walking corpse?”  
  
The definition felt unnecessarily harsh, as if Kratos were passing judgment upon the mindset Cruxis used to have. The mindset that he was still clinging to even now, even if the motivation behind it had changed.  
  
“I was going for something like lifeless vessel,” Yuan grumbled, though he wondered whether it might be synonymous in Kratos's head. If that were the case, a century on Derris-Kharlan would certainly become a lot more unbearable. “Anyway, like it or not, we're a part of this world so we have to _act_ like it. Even if it's just a pretense, it's better than nothing. You had the right idea when you came down here and let yourself fall in love with a human. _That_ was living. It might not have been easy at times, but... living never is.”  
  
“Right, right...” was all Kratos could mumble, more to the floor than to Yuan.  
  
“Come along. I'm taking you back upstairs so you can indulge in the pretense of sleeping.” Yuan shoved the blankets towards his feet and moved himself into a standing position, taking care not to hit his head on the bottom of the stairs. The bump from a collision that'd taken place the other day had yet to subside. “I don't care whether you actually drift off, you just have to stay in bed until morning comes. I'll be sleeping right beside you, so if you make even the slightest attempt to get up, I will _know_.”  
  
Which was only half of Yuan's intent, if he were honest with himself. The fact of the matter was clear as day; Kratos hadn't left the guest room because it had grown 'too small', it was because he was staying there by himself. Yuan knew exactly how difficult it could be to sleep with nothing but ghosts of the past to keep one company. The only reason Kratos had come downstairs was because Yuan was here. To Kratos, he was a familiar presence and a solid reminder that he wasn't alone.  
  
On a third note, the command was a convenient excuse to sleep on an actual mattress. Even with the knowledge of having slept through worse, such as rain with no shelter, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity for comfort when it was right there in front of him.  
  
For a moment, Kratos looked baffled. It was as if there was something he was about to say, only he couldn't do it, as not even he himself had an idea as to what that 'something' would be. Perhaps he could tell what sort of intent was hidden beneath Yuan's words. Ultimately, he bit back the absent response and nodded. Objections would've been shot down either way, making acceptance the only proper path to take.  
  
It wasn't until they reached the top of the stairs that they saw Lloyd peering back at them through the doorway of his own room. Yuan instantly paused in his tracks, cold falling down into his stomach. It wasn't the fact they'd woken Lloyd, it was the fact that he was smiling, perhaps even grinning.  
  
“You- How much did you hear?” Yuan heard himself splutter.  
  
“Don't worry, I didn't catch any big secrets. I mean, I tuned in just in time to hear you talking about getting drunk and jerking off. That's kinda what I expected your nights off to be like anyway.”  
  
A deep, hot blush rising in Yuan's cheekbones, he grabbed the door to Lloyd's room and slammed it shut in his face before continuing onward. By the time Kratos had finished changing, a paranoid voice was screaming in the back of Yuan's head, insisting that this could very well have been a terrible mistake. In a very logical sense, there wasn't anything too odd about two old friends sharing a bed. They'd done such a thing quite often in the face of necessity, back when they were still traveling. Even so, the way things were now, Yuan couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably when Kratos joined him. All he could do now was convince himself that he was doing this for his friend's sake.  
  
“... Sleep well, Yuan.”  
  
The words were like a sledgehammer to the chest. Yuan rolled himself over towards the wall and grumbled a deep “ _you're_ the one who needs those sort of well-wishes.”  
  
No reply came. Yuan hadn't expected one.  
  
\------  
  
“Do you remember the day we first met?”  
  
The question had come so suddenly and from such an unexpected source, it caused Yuan's head to jerk upwards with surprise. He tore his gaze away from the window, beyond which a downpour of rain was happening, directing it towards Kratos instead. His friend was sitting on the stairs, one arm resting on his knee. Lloyd had gone to the World Tree, leaving the two of them alone in the house. As far as Yuan knew, Kratos still hadn't truly slept. Only time could fix that, he supposed.  
  
For the most part, Kratos seemed rather impassive about the question. Yuan could see a shred of something deeper, though. He appeared to be a bit lost, somehow.  
  
“No,” Yuan said, perhaps more bluntly than he'd intended. He thought the answer would've been obvious, as he couldn't possibly remember something that'd happened over four thousand years ago. “... It was on the battlefield, wasn't it? It must've been. I probably wiped the floor with you, too.”  
  
Kratos shook his head. “What about the day we first spoke? Not something as trivial as exchanging taunts- a true conversation. Do you remember that?”  
  
“No, I... Not at all. It might've been when you brought the Yggdrasill siblings to see me. I don't see why we would've spoken before that.” Yuan frowned and tossed another sideways glance out the window. Was that really how things were, back then? He was beginning to doubt himself, now. To have forgotten a meaningful encounter that might've transpired before that was entirely within the realm of possibility. “... Why? Do _you_ remember something like that?”  
  
“No... I don't remember much of anything from those days. I had hoped that you might,” was Kratos's solemn response. He appeared to be disappointed.  
  
“What brought on the question?”  
  
There was a breath- one just slightly more audible than a normal one, as if it were purposely deep. Then Kratos gestured towards the wall. “... The rain. I've always associated it with you, for as long as I can recall. However, I don't know why that is.”  
  
“Isn't it because of my lightning magic?” Yuan guessed, which seemed to be the most obvious connection. “Whenever there's lightning- _real_ lightning, there's rain.”  
  
“Perhaps...”  
  
Once again, Yuan got the distinct impression that Kratos was dissatisfied with the lack of an answer. Perhaps he was even mourning those lost memories. Now that he thought about it, Yuan found it rather sad as well. They'd been friends for such a long time, yet neither of them could remember how it had all gotten started. Knowing the basics of what their lives had been like was not the same thing as being able to look back. It was as if these events had happened to someone else- someone who'd only written down the vital facts in a book and neglected to include pictures or subtle details.  
  
“You know... I'm sure I hated my father,” Yuan mused aloud. “I'm quite sure that I couldn't stand the sight of him. I trained and fought every day to earn his respect and I know for a fact that I never got it, but... If I think back to those days now, I can't remember what he looked like.”  
  
Kratos looked up at him and for a moment, Yuan thought he saw pity on the man's face. Then he realized it was empathy. Of course it would be. Yuan wouldn't be the only one who'd forgotten his father- his parents. Family was a luxury that they'd had for but the briefest of moments in their lifetime.  
  
“... I apologize. I shouldn't have brought it up,” Kratos ultimately mumbled.  
  
“It's fine.” Yuan waved a curt hand at him. “It's good to know I'm not the only one who doesn't remember. It gives me comforting reassurance that I'm not senile.”  
  
For all the good that'd been intended, Yuan's jest seemed to have little effect. Kratos stared straight ahead, towards the foot of the stairs. The angle hid his eyes from view perfectly, though his lips being pressed together was not so easily covered up. “Without our memories...- How can we be certain that it was _real_?”  
  
Another question that gave Yuan pause, though for entirely different reasons than before. The knowledge that Kratos had been caught in a trap of delusions for perhaps a decade served to have his stomach clench. The mind could play tricks, or so Kratos had told Lloyd. With only distant facts planted in the backs of their heads, how _could_ they be certain that any of it had happened at all? If they were unable to picture these things- unable to place themselves in their own shoes- could it not have been make-believe?  
  
The rain was still hammering against the roof, the grass, even the nearby stream. Yuan could hear it all with painful precision if he so desired. He _didn't_ desire. He wanted to drown that noise out.  
  
“You know what I _do_ remember?” he said, which was assumed to be so rhetorical that Kratos made no move to acknowledge the question at all. That was fine with him. “I remember my four thousandth birthday. I remember that I'd forgotten all about it, as I'd stopped keeping track of the years, but _you_... You remembered. You lured me to Welgaia with some... some excuse or another, and then you gave me a topaz bracelet. It's supposed to keep both the mind and the body healthy. While I can't vouch for its effectiveness, I thought it was a nice gesture. Mithos hadn't been invited to the celebration, which I found to be an even nicer gesture. And then... Then we opened up a bottle of Flanoir brandy that our dear Lord Yggdrasill had been saving in the cellars of Vinheim, and we drank until dawn.”  
  
A smile tugged at Kratos's mouth and Yuan was quite proud of himself for knowing what to say. As it turned out, he'd misread his friend's facial expression completely, as what came next was as bitter as could be. “I believe... I don't remember that either.”  
  
\------  
  
Flanoir base. Yuan hadn't been here in so many years, he was surprised the front door's mechanism still functioned as well as it did. While the cold of his surroundings was being blocked out from his senses on purpose, being able to enter the main hall came as a relief. Lights flickered into being and useless old machinery cast a shadow against the walls. Some control panels were covered with blankets, others were left out in the open. His breath rising before him, he began to walk. Where had he left it? He couldn't remember. Nothing for it but to start his search in the most logical places and move away from common sense if necessary.  
  
His footsteps echoed through halls of frosted metal. The heating hadn't been turned on for so long, he didn't dare touch it. The last thing he needed was to end up with his fingers stuck to the wall. In hindsight, he should've taken better care of this place. Despite only serving as a glorified storage area, there were memories here that deserved more respect.  
  
… No, there weren't just memories here. There were _ghosts_.  
  
Instead of moving straight ahead to his old office, Yuan's nostalgia got the best of him. He turned right and headed towards the Rheaird hangar bay. The portal was useless now, nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall. The vending machine was still there, though it had been emptied of its contents. Yuan had told his old Renegades that they were free to take whatever they wanted home with them.  
  
In his mind's eye, he could see them all saluting him one last time. He hadn't asked them to- he hadn't even demanded that they all show up on the day of disbandment. They'd simply done it out of respect for him. How many of them were still alive today? Most of them had been half-elves, so they should've been just fine after a century, but one could never know for certain.  
  
These memories still hadn't faded. His compatriots had been _real_.  
  
He looked up towards the maintenance bridge that crossed along the ceiling and could've sworn he saw a shadow moving there. He could've sworn he saw the glint of a helmet, or perhaps even an eager smile. ...There was nothing there. Ghosts, indeed.  
  
It took longer than it should've for Yuan to enter his old office. Most of his old belongings had been packed up in boxes. The painting was still there in plain view, though it was settled on the floor now. Over time, something within the frame must've broken and allowed it to tumble down. He decided to take it with him and drop it off at his own house before returning to Kratos and Lloyd, as it was going to waste here.  
  
He glanced towards the bookcases and noted they'd been emptied out. He couldn't remember the exact moments he'd accomplished that task, yet he knew it must've been his own doing. Next, he opened his desk drawers in hopes of finding what he was looking for, though he could tell at first glance it was a lost cause. There was nothing in there but paperwork. The boxes were the next best option.  
  
Halfway into his search, he wondered why he'd accumulated this many books. As far as he could tell, he hadn't read most of them. Books on magitechnology, books on the Kharlan war, books on astrology, books on the supernatural... Some of these held secrets that were lost to the world. He put them all back in the box they'd come from. Some day, he'd figure out what to do with them.  
  
Another box held decorative items. Curtains, furs, wine glasses wrapped up in tablecloths... What a shame. He decided to bring those home as well. From within a metal jewelry box he retrieved a certain topaz bracelet. That couldn't be left behind either.  
  
Minutes stretched into hours and time seemed to freeze over entirely when he found a handwritten letter hidden between some old folders. His fingers began to tremble as he read it, though it wasn't due to the cold. These words had been addressed to him over a century ago, which made it all the more painful that he hadn't noticed the letter back then. It was only now during his searching that he'd been able to take it all in.  
  
Botta had left him one final message. Nothing but bittersweet sentiments that felt unwarranted in hindsight. Worst of all was a wish for eternal peace- not only for the world, but for Yuan himself. The letter was a testament to Botta's hopes for the future. It was proof that he'd _believed_ in his 'lord'. After all this time, it came across as a slap to the face.  
  
The paper crumpled in Yuan's hand and the noise of it all started him out of his reverie. He hastily smoothed the creases back out again, then folded the letter up and stuffed it into his pocket. This too hadn't been the target of his search, yet it was a good reminder of all that he'd sacrificed. What would Botta say if he were still alive today? What would _any_ of Yuan's old lieutenants have said? Was this the world that they'd fought for? It didn't seem like it. It wasn't good enough. Yuan would have to keep working at it.  
  
Memories were tricky things, as in the end, they became muddled by knowledge that stemmed from the present. If Yuan had known over four thousand years ago what would've become of him, he wouldn't have humored Kratos nor the Yggdrasill siblings at all.  
  
  
 **To Be Continued**


	9. Chapter 9

“I'm home.”  
  
Redundant as the remark felt, as his fellow seraphim would've surely sensed his approach before he'd even laid a hand on the front door, Yuan couldn't stop himself from uttering it. It was better than saying nothing, he supposed. Lloyd was standing near the sink in the kitchen area, preparing tonight's dinner. The smell of blood would've been alarming if the source weren't obvious. Was that deer meat, or was it boar?  
  
“That took longer than I expected. I thought it was just a small errand,” Lloyd remarked.  
  
“What a nice, warm welcome.” Yuan took a moment to toss his cloak onto the coat rack. It missed the hook by a few inches and fell to the floor instead. Knowing the other man would've spotted that, he acted as if he'd meant to do it and strode further into the house with the most nonchalance he could muster. “I took a detour to my house to drop some things off.”  
  
“You know you can store things here if you want to.”  
  
“I _don't_ want to. Where's Kratos?”  
  
“Take a guess.”  
  
It was Lloyd's frustrated tone of voice that destroyed any need for actual guessing. Over the past two weeks, Kratos had spent little time in his son's vicinity. It was hard to say whether Lloyd was allowing this to happen because he respected Kratos's boundaries, or because he was so frustrated with the man that he needed space as well. Most of the time, Yuan was banking on the latter option and while it felt satisfying to entertain that thought, he knew it wasn't quite right. Eventually, those two would have to reconcile.  
  
“I'll be right back,” he announced, then started his way up the stairs. Lloyd hummed quietly in response and Yuan could hear the kitchen knife slice into the meat again.  
  
While he'd expected Kratos to be in the guest room, his estimation was off by a few feet. As it turned out, the man was seated on the balcony, where the shade of a birch tree provided perfect cover against what little sunlight was present on such a cloudy day. Yuan suspected that the fresh air had been sought out due to the smell that came from the kitchen.  
  
“Kratos.”  
  
No response came, though the twitching of fingers implied that Yuan had been heard just fine.  
  
“I have something for you,” he continued, sitting down beside Kratos and moving a small bag into his lap. These were the few things from Flanoir base he hadn't left at his own home for storage purposes. They were more important than that.  
  
“... I don't recall asking for anything,” Kratos mumbled. It was another one of those days, wasn't it?  
  
“I'm your friend, you bastard. I'll bring you whatever I want, whenever I want to,” Yuan snapped back at him. “Now pay attention.”  
  
A hand was reached into the bag and from within, Yuan retrieved the topaz bracelet. The blue gem embedded within a layer of silver looked rather dull, as if the shade couldn't do it justice. It needed light to show off its true beauty. He held it out for Kratos to see and sure enough, the man's eyes swerved towards it only to widen. “That's...”  
  
“My four thousandth birthday gift. You remember now, don't you?” A brief pause, then Yuan took hold of his friend's hand and slid the bracelet around his wrist. “I don't think I ever did anything for _your_ four thousandth birthday, so consider it a very late gift. Your mind and body could use a bit more health, anyway.”  
  
Kratos held up his hand once it was released, assessing the bracelet with a hint of scrutiny. It was almost as if he were trying to expose the item as a fraud or a figment of his imagination. Yuan found himself somewhat insulted by it. If the bracelet was there, it was there. That was all there was to it.  
  
“You didn't need to do this,” Kratos ultimately said, lowering his arm again.  
  
“A simple 'thank you' will suffice,” was Yuan's dry response.  
  
“... Thank you.”  
  
“Anyway, it was pure coincidence that I found it. I was searching for this.”  
  
Yuan reached into the bag a second time, his fingers curling around something far larger. Something that he'd purposely hidden away in Flanoir base, as he couldn't bear to look at it after only a few centuries of Cruxis. Still, he couldn't bring himself to throw it away either, fearing he might regret it. No, perhaps he'd feared that his Lord Yggdrasill would somehow find out such a treasured memory had been moved into the trash. Perhaps he'd even feared that Martel would one day find out.  
  
A picture frame was moved out into the open. With the aid of polycarbonate, the photograph sealed within had aged very little over the course of more than four millennia. If anything, the yellowed corners added a vintage touch to the display. There they were, within that single frame: all four Kharlan Heroes. Kratos was standing on the left side, donning a smile that would in time become quite rare. Proud, composed, strong... That was the Kratos of old. Mithos was beside him, grinning brightly. One hand was on a sword strapped to his waist and the other was holding onto Martel's. It pained Yuan to look at her- to see her the way she'd been before her death. She'd been so beautiful. Nothing at all like Yuan himself, whose facial expression in the picture was something embarrassing. Why was one of his eyes narrowed slightly? Honestly...  
  
Logic told Yuan that the picture must've been taken after the two worlds had been split and they were awaiting the arrival of Derris-Kharlan, though he couldn't recall the exact moment. Regardless, the fact that he was holding this frame in his hand was evidence that the moment had transpired.  
  
The photograph was passed on to Kratos without further delay. While the man's expression seemed oddly blank, there were the little gestures to write a story of their own. The corners of his lips become more strained and his eyes almost seemed to tremble in their sockets with how shakily they were attempting to find a point of focus.  
  
“This was real,” Yuan insisted. “A long time ago, we were these people. And then... Then we made so many mistakes that we became unrecognizable. That doesn't mean it didn't happen. We'd be shirking our responsibilities if we deluded ourselves into thinking it was just a trick of the mind.”  
  
“... We've made _too_ many mistakes.” Kratos hung his head, a curtain of auburn blocking out some of the tells that the conversation was having any effect at all.  
  
“Obviously. I think the heroes in this picture would be embarrassed by the strangers we've become. -No, I know for a fact that _this_ asshole right here would be.” He jabbed a finger at the Yuan of the past for emphasis, smiling wryly. “... Even if we don't have the exact memories anymore, it doesn't mean we can't honor them. It's not too late- It's _never_ too late. We have to keep trying to live up to their expectations, or we'd putting ourselves to shame. So you have to keep that picture as a reminder. You have to look at it every day and ask yourself: what would the Kratos Aurion looking back at me want me to do?”  
  
There was a sigh, then a good twenty seconds of silence. It was enough to have Yuan wonder whether his friend had stopped listening halfway into his scolding. Whether he was being purposely blocked out just so Kratos had an excuse to continue feeling sorry for himself. That would be just like him. Still, a response came in the end.  
  
“Thank you, Yuan. Truly. … I needed this.”  
  
“You're damn right you needed it,” Yuan replied, leaning back against the wooden wall of the house. It was all he could think to say on the matter.  
  
It was nice to simply sit there, enjoying the breeze as it tickled his skin. Enjoying the sound of rustling from surrounding trees. Enjoying the smell of fresh air. Enjoying a deeply familiar sensation that came simply from Kratos being in his near proximity. It was all the little things one had to enjoy, which presented him with a belief that life was normal and peaceful. That belief was false, of course. Things would never be normal for them, nor entirely peaceful. Even so, the pretense was there. Yuan's eyes slipped shut and he felt as if he might doze off, though he advised himself against it.  
  
Kratos broke the silence again after a few minutes. “The world feels different.”  
  
“What's that supposed to mean?” Yuan asked, not quite stirring from his state of relaxation just yet.  
  
“... The mana. It seems off. At first, I'd assumed it was due to Derris-Kharlan's blessing, yet even after its departure, the feeling hasn't diminished.”  
  
The mana... It took Yuan longer than it should've for him to pinpoint just why the world's mana would feel 'off' to someone who'd been away for a hundred years. His first thought was of Yggdrasill, though he made another connection immediately after. If anything, the result came from something that was the opposite of Yggdrasill.  
  
“You have Ratatosk to thank,” he said, opening his eyes again to glance up towards the sky. “I forgot... You were already out of range before that whole thing concluded, weren't you?”  
  
“Then, your attempt to gather all the cores...?”  
  
“I'd say we failed, but... In a way, I think everyone won. Ratatosk made a full awakening and now he's undergoing a ritual inside the Ginnungagap. He's rewriting the laws of mana so that life will stop being dependent on it.”  
  
A sideways glance told him that Kratos looked utterly stumped by the notion. Yuan couldn't blame him. As far as he could remember, the last bit of information to pass between them was that Ratatosk might be sealed away by Verius, should it become impossible for Emil Castagnier to soothe his anger. Indeed, that _had_ happened for a brief while. However, subduing Ratatosk had never been the answer. Showing him kindness was the only way to receive kindness in turn. A novel concept.  
  
“To think he would join our cause after all...” Kratos mused aloud.  
  
“I can't claim that he's forgiven us for what we've done to him, nor humanity for destroying his tree in the first place,” Yuan said, closing his eyes again. “He simply loves this world so much that he's willing to help us save it.”  
  
“Heh... It's the same as Norn.”  
  
Yuan supposed that Kratos had a point, as the similarities were certainly there. Two tree spirits, disappointed and sealed away by Cruxis, putting aside their grudges once they'd been freed. The apple hadn't fallen too far from the- well- _tree_. How long would it take for _Norn_ to rewrite Derris-Kharlan's mana, if indeed that was what she were up to? Surely, she had that sort of power. Born from a cutting of the original Kharlan Tree, she was likely more similar to Ratatosk than Martel was.  
  
“Who's Norn?” asked a third voice. Lloyd was standing in the doorway that led to the guest room, peering towards them with an expression that bordered between curious and idle.  
  
Yuan sighed loudly. “How many times do I need to explain things to you before they stick?”  
  
“Maybe those things would stick better if they weren't coated in a patronizing attitude.” Lloyd crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. In that moment, Yuan realized that perhaps he'd taught Kratos's son just a bit too much.  
  
“Norn is Martel's sister of sorts.”  
  
“Oh, the one who was left behind on Derris-Kharlan after the elves moved the Kharlan Tree down to the surface?” Lloyd took a few steps out onto the balcony and sat himself down as well, bending his knees in such a way that his legs could be crossed by the ankles. “... Did Cruxis piss _her_ off just like Ratatosk?”  
  
“I think you'll be hard-pressed to find someone who Cruxis _hadn't_ pissed off in one way or another,” Yuan remarked, though he grinned despite himself. “But I don't know just how angry she was. I hadn't bothered to speak with her after she was sealed away. One could say we secluded her for her own good- that's what Mithos would've said, anyway, but there was more to it than that. There simply wasn't enough room on Derris-Kharlan for two powerful rulers. She was sealed away because her influence could've ruined Mithos's plans.”  
  
“Eesh... But she's free now?”  
  
“Kratos released her seal and allowed her to govern before he left, yes.”  
  
“I think that was the right call. If she loves Derris-Kharlan the way Martel and Ratatosk love this world, she'll do whatever it takes to keep that place safe,” Lloyd said with a fond smile.  
  
Much as Yuan wanted to draw attention to the notion that keeping the world safe wasn't the same as keeping its inhabitants safe, he found himself biting his tongue. Questioning Norn's intent in front of Kratos struck him as unwise. If indeed Derris-Kharlan's spirit were to bring destruction upon the lifeless beings that'd been left behind, they were better off not knowing about that. They had their own world to worry about, after all.  
  
\------  
  
Kratos still wasn't getting enough sleep, in Yuan's opinion. Over the past month, he'd kept a close eye on the man's supposed slumber and while there were a few times where consciousness was surely lost to dreams, those times came rare and brief. About two hours every other night, as far as Yuan could tell. Worse than the knowledge that it was happening was the continuing truth that he couldn't _fix_ it. His presence wasn't enough to settle his friend's nerves. Ninety years of Derris-Kharlan and a decade of being twisted by Mithos's trap had ensured that Kratos refused to lower his guard. At times, Yuan had wondered whether they should pay a visit to Verius. Perhaps there was a tainted portion of Kratos's heart that could be mended, or even sealed away. The trouble was, whatever it was that was tainted most likely didn't reside in the heart. It would be inside Kratos's head, if anything. To visit Verius would be to grasp at straws.  
  
The little shreds of improvement had to count for something, Yuan kept telling himself. They had plenty of time to work on it. Baby steps, taking progress in moderation, things like that. Those sort of consolations fell short whenever he caught Kratos staring into space as if there was something horrifying to be seen. The topaz bracelet really was a piece of worthless shit, wasn't it?  
  
Lloyd was gone today; off to spend some time with Genis. Even after all this time, the half-elf hadn't stopped by the house to visit Kratos. Yuan suspected that Lloyd had advised against it, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Was it because he didn't want to burden Kratos with memories of the Journey of Regeneration, or was it because he was embarrassed of what his father had become? Or was he, perhaps, worried that Kratos was the one who would be embarrassed by his current state? All of these options sounded equally legitimate, which only served as a reminder that the situation was bleak.  
  
“Let's go for a walk,” Yuan suggested, if only to settle his own unease. There had to be more he could do. There had to be _something_. “We'll take Noishe and head down to the lake.”  
  
No response came. Kratos was standing by the window, his attention on the outside and his back towards the warmth of the house. It was the sort of sight that was growing tiresome.  
  
“ _Kratos_.” Yuan's voice turned loud and impatient, which was enough to snap its target out of his reverie. There was a physical start, then Kratos whirled around to face him. That too was growing tiresome.  
  
“I- I apologize. I wasn't-”  
  
“Paying attention,” Yuan finished for him. “Obviously. Sometimes I wonder whether some part of you is still stuck on Derris-Kharlan, because it certainly feels as if you're on another world with how distant you are.”  
  
For a split second, Kratos looked genuinely shocked by the notion. Then he hung his head and uttered the most predictable of words. “I'm sorry.”  
  
“You're beginning to sound like a certain Chosen.”  
  
Part of Yuan expected a request to clarify which Chosen he'd referred to, as there'd been all too many in their lifetime and while Colette Brunel had been the most recent, she hadn't been alone in her tendency to apologize. It didn't come. Instead, Kratos breathed a quiet hum. “I suppose...”  
  
“You _suppose_? Really? That's your comeback?”  
  
A shrug of the shoulders was the only response Kratos gave at this point. Yuan shook his head and pushed himself up from the chair he'd been sitting on, closing the distance between them. That too was barely acknowledged.  
  
“C'mon, let's go out,” Yuan insisted again. “A stretch of the legs will you do some good. Noishe will love it too.”  
  
Still nothing. It was frustrating at first, then the observation began to form: Kratos was staring over Yuan's shoulder, at a point just behind him. His eyes had widened, more focused than they'd been for most of the conversation. It was odd, Yuan noted, as one turn of the head told him more than enough. There was still no one in the house but the two of them.  
  
He realized it then and there. Fleeing Mithos's hold wasn't as easy as being released from his trap of hallucinations, nor even leaving Derris-Kharlan behind. Certain demons had followed Kratos all the way back to this world. Every single time he'd seemed distracted, something had been whispering to him. The mind was playing far too many tricks, even now.  
  
“Kratos.” He grabbed the man by the shoulders, causing him to cringe and scrunch his eyes shut. It made Yuan feel as if he were the bad guy, though he knew that this was necessary. “There's nothing _there_.”  
  
Yuan's hunch must've been correct, because Kratos instantly gave off an impression of being caught red-handed. “I-I...”  
  
“No matter what it is you think you're seeing- no matter what it's saying to you, it isn't _real_. If it were, do you think I'd be standing here letting it all slide? _No_! I'd be beating the shit out of it! It sure can't do anything to _me_ either, now can it? Maybe it'd like to, but that's all the more proof it's just an illusion. I'm standing right here and I've got a firm hold on you, yet that thing can't lay a finger on me in turn. What does that tell you?”  
  
“I don't know...” Kratos whispered, turning his head even further away. Yuan wouldn't stand for that. His fingers dug into fabric and he resorted to a firm shake. Kratos's back collided with the wall and there was another cringe. It was enough to awaken some fight inside of him, as hands grabbed hold of Yuan's upper arms in turn. Still, Kratos refused to meet his eye. “-Let _go_ of me, Yuan...!”  
  
“No! You'd better damn well _listen_ to me! I'm getting sick and tired of this! Mithos Yggdrasill is _dead_! We put him to rest! Your _son_ put him to rest! We're _free_!”  
  
“I never said-” Kratos's protest was cut short so fast, it might as well not have been uttered at all. Yuan pressed him up against the wall again.  
  
“Don't take me for a fool! Whose influence would stir such a reaction if not his? It was _always_ him! I know what he did to you for all those years and I know that you _let_ him. I told myself that it was harmless- that you were grown men capable of making your own decisions and that it was none of my business. That was nothing more than justification on my part and... I'm sorry. I wasn't there for you. It won't be like that anymore. I'm _here_ now.”  
  
Helpful as the intent had been, it didn't have the result Yuan had hoped for. He'd been too direct. Something close to horror dawned on Kratos's features and his knees buckled. The ugly nature of the past must've hit a bit too close to whatever was casting a shadow. Were it not for his own strength, Yuan would've been pulled down with him. Instead, he managed to lower Kratos with only a mild loss of dignity. Knees hit the floor and Yuan crouched down as well. His hold on the man's shoulders didn't relinquish, even as Kratos's fingers slipped from his arms to find support against the floor.  
  
“... I don't know... what to believe anymore. I don't know who to fo-follow...” The words were uttered in-between quiet wheezes.  
  
“You aren't supposed to be following _anyone_ ,” Yuan snapped without delay. He knew, however, that was easier said than done. People didn't change. “But if you _must_... you can stick with me. The next time you find yourself doubting reality, come to me and I'll point out the phantoms that only exist inside your head. Because I'm _real_ , Kratos. I'm real and I want to keep you safe. I want you to get better. I want you to live for yourself and your own happiness. That's more than any delusion created by Mithos would want for you.”  
  
While it seemed as if Kratos was about to respond, he became instantly distracted by something else. Another phantom standing by their side, going by the way ruby eyes flickered to the left and then the floor. His body tensed up further in Yuan's grip and his breath quickened. It begged the question of just what sort of phantom would be there. Perhaps it was Yggdrasill, perhaps it was Lloyd, perhaps it was even Yuan himself. Perhaps there were several images haunting Kratos at the same time. Perhaps it wasn't anything corporeal. Perhaps Yuan was entirely too arrogant for thinking he could deduce what might be going through his friend's head. It was difficult to predict madness. Even so, Yuan had to try and understand the cracks that threatened to reduce Kratos to pieces, or else he couldn't even begin to mend them.  
  
“What is it saying to you?” he asked.  
  
“It's... It's nothing.”  
  
“It's obviously not nothing,” Yuan insisted, because while it was a figment of Kratos's imagination, the impact was only too real. “It's trying to destroy your composure on purpose. That's what Mithos's traps did; they manipulated and twisted a person's guilt- their insecurities. That's how it made the victims vulnerable to his control. It fed you some ridiculous lies and even now, long after being freed, those lies are sticking with you.”  
  
Hands were raised to Kratos's ears and it was hard to say just who was being blocked out at this point. Was it Yuan or was it whatever phantom would surely undermine his words? Either way, it made Kratos seem desperate, as there was no way such a gesture would actually work. “They're... not...”  
  
“Not what?” he demanded. There was no reply, so he tried again, shaking the man's shoulders as he did so. “They're not _what_ , Kratos?”  
  
“Lies,” was the bitter answer. “They... aren't lies. That is why... it's so difficult to dismiss it as a fantasy.”  
  
Right... Of course. Why destroy Kratos's composure with some make-believe story when there were more than enough facts to take advantage of? Just like Yuan, there were more than enough sins to target. Sins that they could never hope to hide. These were the things that they would have to carry into their grave, which could be precisely why Kratos was attempting to hurry himself into it.  
  
With that, a bit more sympathy awoke inside Yuan. His fingers eased their hold on Kratos's shoulders and instead defaulted to a squeeze that he hoped would be reassuring. “Plenty of material to work with already, huh? Well, that means you can talk to me about it. I already know about all the shit you've pulled in the past.”  
  
“No.” The denial came so fast that it could only have been a reflex on Kratos's part. One that he must've come to regret, as he faltered. “No, not... Not all.”  
  
The first thought to dawn on Yuan was something along the lines of 'damn it all, there's _more_?' Still, he didn't voice it. It would be exactly the wrong thing to draw attention to. Even so, finding something more subtle proved difficult. Yuan had never been one for subtlety, nor even comfort in general.  
  
“You really believe there's anything you could say at this point that would have me think less of you? Since when does _my_ opinion matter so much? You have to talk about this, because it's eating you up inside.”  
  
Kratos shook his head. Not once, not twice- he shook it over and over, locks of auburn bobbing between Yuan's arms. Hands moved from his ears to his face, covering it. “I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry.”  
  
This conversation was taking all the wrong turns, apparently. It was tempting to just give up and leave Kratos be, but it wouldn't accomplish much. The problem would still _be_ there. There was only one way to ease Kratos's suffering; it was to hurt him by drawing the truth out into the open and then allowing the resulting wound to heal properly.  
  
“Please,” Yuan said, leaning forward and lowering his voice to something of a whisper. “Just tell me what you're going through. I want to help you, but I can't do that until I know what I'm dealing with. Trust me. It can't possibly be as bad as you seem to think it is.”  
  
“It _is_. It's... You couldn't know. It's _because_ you didn't know t-that I...”  
  
“What don't I know? ...You aren't making any sense.”  
  
A gulp, then a shuddering breath. Kratos was still hiding himself behind his hands. Even so, the words began to tumble out. “It... It was always there. For even longer than I can recall. Right from the start, I... I'm certain that told myself I was being foolish. I told myself to... to _ignore_ it. I made myself forget. Still... I could never deceive myself. The trap forced me to see it.”  
  
“What are you saying?” Yuan asked, though even as the question left him, a suspicion was forming. One that he wouldn't believe until he heard it with his own ears.  
  
“I was proud to be your friend. Always. And I... I wished for your happiness, no matter where you might find it. Or with _whom_. That's why I never... I...” Kratos choked something back and it was difficult to say whether that something was a sob or physical illness.  
  
“Kratos...”  
  
“I loved A-Anna. I loved her beyond a shadow of a doubt. That's what... what makes it all the more shameful. Long before that- even _during_ , t-there was always a part of me that... that wanted _you_. And I _hated_ myself for it.”  
  
And there it was; the one thing Yuan had never expected to hear up until twenty seconds ago. Kratos had been right to say that he hadn't known. How could he have? He couldn't remember ever spotting so much as a single glimpse of interest of that nature. If anything, Kratos had actively played matchmaker between him and Martel. Was that all because he'd prioritized Yuan's happiness over his own? Had it hurt him to do such things?  
  
The thought was sickening, though not in the way that Kratos must've been assuming it would be. If anything, Yuan was disgusted with himself for not noticing. He was sure that four thousand years ago, he'd fretted countless times over the notion that Martel was blind to his affection and who had he confided in? _Kratos_. Who had been there for him after her death? _Kratos_. Who had assured him that they could bring her back if they were to just follow Mithos's lead? _Kratos_. Was it really a wonder that the man would offer such extreme devotion to Mithos Yggdrasill in the face of something like that? ...No, it made perfect sense now.  
  
He'd been dumbstruck for a bit too long, he realized, as Kratos's fingernails were digging into his forehead. Yuan's hands hastily moved up to his wrists, hoping to ease the tension. The topaz bracelet slid down Kratos's left arm as far as it would go.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Yuan whispered. “I had no idea. Not once. I suppose I just... never considered you'd find me all that interesting.”  
  
In a way, it was flattering that Kratos would have feelings beyond platonic for someone like him. He wasn't extraordinary in the way Anna had been. He'd always been just a ragtag half-elf who excelled at making things more difficult than they should be.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Kratos said yet again. His hands hadn't moved so much as an inch despite Yuan's attempts to have them lowered.  
  
“That's nothing to apologize for. Hell, you think you're the first guy to look at a friend and consider things like that? It's only natural.” Yuan paused, then added a half-hearted “and I'm not saying that because I'm aware I'm handsome.”  
  
Silence. Bringing a sense of humor into the situation had proven to be a bad idea, then. His fingertips stroked Kratos's wrists and he leaned forward even further, pressing his forehead against the back of the man's hands. Even through all that, he could hear breathing falter.  
  
“Hey. I'm not mad. I'm not disgusted. It's fine. Lower your hands and look at me, will you?”  
  
At last, Kratos did as he was told. Now their foreheads were touching and familiar eyes were gazing straight into Yuan's own. Their noses were inches away from brushing against one another. Heat prickled along Yuan's cheekbones. He was still holding onto Kratos's wrists, he realized, so he slid his palms along the back of his hands instead. The obstruction of Kratos's Cruxis Crystal was but a minor annoyance in the back of Yuan's head. It was impossible to say just what Kratos was thinking. Perhaps he wasn't. Yuan was certainly having trouble forming coherent thoughts of his own. He hadn't exactly planned ahead.  
  
Their lips met in a kiss that could be described as brief. Chaste. Cautious. It was about as far as Yuan was willing to go, because he wasn't like the lord of Cruxis. He refused to take advantage of a vulnerable friend, regardless of who held what sort of feelings. While Kratos's sentiments on the matter were only too clear, Yuan's own were in a bit of disarray. He'd have to re-evaluate just how he felt about the companion he'd always respected and resented.  
  
  
**To Be Continued**

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Yuan didn't know what to do. Not when pulling away from Kratos, not when making him a cup of tea nor even when Lloyd returned to the house in the evening hours. It felt as if everything had changed; had twisted itself into a knot that was so complicated, it could never be untied again. He began to second-guess everything he did, wondering what it would cause within Kratos's mind. Wondering whether he was inadvertently hurting the man again. He became so distracted during his chores that he wasn't aware of the lightning crackling between his fingers until Lloyd scolded him for 'boobytrapping' the dishwater.  
  
When the time came to retreat to bed, Yuan's stomach felt as if it were filled with bubbling acid. Had he been this self-conscious around Martel as well? He couldn't remember. If so, was the similarity of his behavior a sign to be taken, or merely the result of guilt?  
  
Doubt aside, he refused to distance himself. It'd have been the coward's way out if he did and he'd be damned if he started pussyfooting around such things now. He was over four thousand years old, for crying out loud. He laid himself down in bed beside Kratos, just as he'd been doing for the past month, and it was stubborn nature alone that kept him from turning his back to the man.  
  
“You don't need to do this,” Kratos insisted for what must've been the third time in the past five minutes.  
  
“I need to do this. And before you get any bright ideas, it's not out of pity,” Yuan grumbled up towards the ceiling. Just for good measure, his hand found Kratos's beneath the blanket to give it a squeeze. That was enough to shut him up.  
  
Perhaps it was enough in general. Perhaps the only thing that Kratos needed from him was a genuinely kind touch every so often. Something to remind him that he didn't need to face life by himself. The way Yuan saw it, feeling at ease around one another was a firm half of romance. Perhaps it was even the most important aspect. If so, he could breathe a bit easier. He'd been alone for so long that he couldn't quite remember how he'd handled all the other aspects of a healthy relationship. He'd fumbled his way through it with flowers and other hollow gestures, he was sure.  
  
For the first time since Derris-Kharlan's return, Kratos fell asleep before him. He was still lost to the world when Yuan awoke after a few hours of inconsistent slumber, as well. One would have to go on a hunt to find any other moment when the man could look so peaceful. The sunrise was casting an orange hue through the window and it seemed to cause an odd shimmer across the mop of unruly bedhead. Much as he reprimanded himself for it, Yuan noted that his companion really was quite handsome. He wondered vaguely why he'd never looked at Kratos in such a proverbial light before. 'Because of sheer idiocy' was the most obvious answer. Yggdrasill marking his territory might've played a part in it as well.  
  
When at last Kratos awoke, it was with a subtle jolt. Perhaps he'd escaped a dawning nightmare just in time. Much as Yuan could have feigned ignorance, or even sleep, he decided not to. Instead, he rolled himself onto his back and uttered a soft “good morning.”  
  
Kratos hummed and buried most of his face in the pillow, while the remaining portions were hidden behind his arm. “... Good morning.”  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
“My head appears to be swimming.”  
  
“Of course it is. You've been forcing yourself to stay awake for so long that seven full hours of sleep is like being in a coma.” Yuan grinned wryly, then moved himself into a sitting position.  
  
“Seven hours...” Kratos repeated as if he couldn't quite believe it. He tilted his head lightly and cracked an eye open to peer up at Yuan. “Should I be alarmed?”  
  
“Not at all. I think that Lloyd will be proud of you. You have ways to go before you beat his record, but it's a start.”  
  
“... His record?”  
  
“Fifteen and a half consecutive hours, I think it was. You'd have to ask him to be sure.”  
  
With only a small portion of his face visible, it was hard to say whether Kratos was surprised or horrified. “How did he manage something like that?”  
  
“Well, there was alcohol involved, obviously. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was a purposeful strategy. He slept through all the stages of a hangover.”  
  
Kratos breathed a bit of a chuckle, which made Yuan quite content. He slipped himself out of bed, his bare feet hitting the floor with a thump loud enough to alert anyone with seraphic hearing that he was up. Kratos was still watching him, he was sure, though he had no idea how to handle something like that. The small talk didn't change the notion that some aspects of yesterday's incident hadn't been discussed.  
  
“Yuan.”  
  
“Don't force yourself to get up. I'll make you some coffee to help with that headache of yours and once you're feeling up for it, we're going for a walk. Just the two of us- and perhaps Noishe. I'm not taking no for an answer this time.”  
  
“... All right.”  
  
Pleasant in tone as the response may have been, Yuan kept his eyes firmly on his clothes as he dressed himself. There was a sort of tension that appeared to be breathing down his neck. Not until he was about to leave the room did he cast one last glance towards Kratos, who'd returned to hiding his face in the pillow.  
  
\------  
  
The lake seemed different today. In a very logical sense, that should've been impossible. It was just as big as usual, the water just as still. The same plants surrounded it and the same wooden dock led to Lloyd's boat, which struck Yuan as just as unimpressive as always. No, the difference was all inside his head.  
  
Noishe was running ahead of them, stopping every so often to sniff at a tree only to break into another sprint before long. At times, the Protozoan acted its true age and at times, it was more like a puppy. Kratos hadn't said much of anything and neither had Yuan. They merely strode along side by side, gazes on anything but each other.  
  
The grass was particularly nice this time of year. Clouds were only tattered shreds, lacking their usual fluff. There was some gravel that looked very appealing to kick. A flock of starlings was headed east, which Yuan found to be a peculiar direction for them.  
  
When at last they sat down on a wooden bench that Lloyd had placed there several years earlier, it felt as if time had run out. Trivial distractions had to cease. He attempted to find a subtle entry into the conversation, only to come to terms with the fact that there wasn't one. All leads would be blunt.  
  
“About last night...” he began, unsure of where to take the rest of that sentence just yet. Kratos tensed by his side, indicating that he'd damn well better take it _somewhere_. “We should- I mean... Where do you... want that to go?”  
  
“Where do _I_ want it go?” There was a tone of surprise to Kratos's voice that seemed almost unnatural. Yuan didn't dare look his way.  
  
“Yes, _you_. I don't know what your expectations are, so...”  
  
“... I have none. It should not have happened, and I-”  
  
“If you apologize, I _swear_ , I will fling you into the lake,” Yuan hissed.  
  
Kratos was silent for a moment and it became evident that he was struggling to avoid doing exactly what Yuan had accused him of. “Regardless, you are free to forget it ever occurred.”  
  
“No,” Yuan said immediately. His head shook and he could feel his toes curling inward inside his boots. “You're wrong. Not only _should_ it have happened, it should've happened a long time ago. The only thing that makes it problematic is that I'm only finding out about this _now_.”  
  
“... Ah.”  
  
“I don't know how to feel. I don't know what to _do_. I need more time to figure it out. The thing is... this isn't only about me. Half of this is about _you_. That's why I need your opinion. Your _real_ opinion, not whatever bullshit you tell yourself to appease your guilt. I need to know what you want so I can take it into account.”  
  
The response was so delayed, Yuan could've gotten started on a nice whittling project while he waited. Not that it was something to fault Kratos for. The matter was not only delicate, it was painful. It wasn't anything Yuan would've ever pictured himself speaking of, either. Lloyd had asked him once why he'd stopped pursuing relationships and to some degree, the reason was still sticking with him. The _fear_ was still with him.  
  
Kratos spoke eventually, though. “I want you to be happy.”  
  
“Damn it all, I already said this isn't about me!”  
  
“No, what I mean to say is... I don't know how to put this into words, exactly. It must sound insane. This is not about you, rather, the effect it has on me. No matter the method, no matter how close we are... The only expectation that I have would be that I could be there for you. I wish for you to be happy and I wish to see it with my own eyes. To bring you that happiness, if I could even accomplish such a thing.”  
  
He watched the way Kratos's fingers were fiddling in his lap, twisting around each other and rubbing against the palms. Putting such a thing into words must not have been easy at all, yet Yuan found that he understood. It wasn't so much about being together as it was about not being alone. It was about eternities that lay ahead and finding ways to cope with them. It was about seeking comfort with someone who could be trusted. Someone who could _understand_. Something closer than mere companionship. Perhaps, during their lifetime, they had ascended to a point where a traditional relationship had lost all meaning.  
  
A wry grin made its way to his lips and he shook his head. “You should know that I'm not an easy man to please, but if that's the challenge you want to take on, be my guest. I had no intention of leaving your side either way, so that whole 'being there' thing is already happening.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“We'll see where this goes. We've got dozens, if not hundreds of years to figure it out.”  
  
“I suppose so.”  
  
Silence fell. Yuan watched Noishe run along the lakeshore, paws splattering wet sand and mud as he went. Times changed. People changed. He knew that now.  
  
“Yuan?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“... Thank you.”  
  
\------  
  
Swords clanged against one another and even as the metal hummed, there were scrunches of mud and leaves being flattened beneath boots. Kratos had finally accepted an invitation to spar with Lloyd. It was about time, Yuan felt. Lloyd been requesting it for a month already.  
  
A Demon Fang here, a Tiger Blade there... Techniques were being employed with modesty and, if one were to look closely, with a half-hearted air. From his cozy audience seat on the wooden bench, Yuan realized it within a minute: Lloyd was holding back and Kratos was being _sloppy_. Knowing that their full potential was hampered by something so utterly ridiculous, it made the display pathetic to watch.  
  
When at last Kratos fell, it was more of a purposeful surrender than anything else. He hit the ground shoulders-first, then collapsed with a dull thud. He was unharmed, of course.  
  
“Huh...” Lloyd straightened himself out of his fighting stance, twirling one of his swords around in his right hand. “If only my teenage self could see me now...”  
  
Several blinks up at the sky passed before Kratos sat up, smiling wryly. “He would be impressed, I'm certain. You've honed your skills quite well. Even more so when taking into account that you were not utilizing your full capacity.”  
  
“Hah? Oh, no, I was...” Lloyd began in an uncomfortable stammer, looking quite cornered as he attempted to find words which wouldn't be patronizing. “It's not like pity or anything! It's just that I'm so used to holding back when I'm sparring with Yuan...”  
  
“I _beg your pardon_?!” Yuan snapped.  
  
Lloyd chuckled and shot a grin at him, though it held just as much amusement to it as it held an apology.  
  
“Well, he must've done something right if he could guide you to this level,” Kratos remarked in turn. Yuan thought the sentiment was a bit hollow, as it didn't take all that much skill to defeat Kratos as he was now. Lloyd must've felt the same way, as his grin faltered a bit.  
  
Luckily, a distraction came in the form of Noishe, who bounded towards Kratos and pressed his snout against the man's face. A loud, drawn-out whine of affection rang out, which would've been enough to hide Kratos's brief guffaw from less discerning ears. As for Yuan, he heard it just fine. Once Noishe's thick fur had been thoroughly ruffled, Kratos picked up his sword from where it'd fallen and returned it to its sheath.  
  
“Let's try again tomorrow,” Lloyd ultimately declared, putting his own weapons away with a flourish. “I want to go back to the times where I actually had difficulty keeping up with you, but losing my own skills isn't an option, so I guess it's _you_ who has to grow stronger this time.”  
  
Though Kratos didn't reply, there was another bittersweet smile on his face as he scrambled to his feet.  
  
“Should I take on the task of teaching him, then?” Yuan suggested, if only to keep the lightheartedness of the situation going. That much came with a great price.  
  
“ _You_? C'mon, Yuan... You're only going to make it _worse_ ,” was Lloyd's sly comeback.  
  
“I am _not_!”  
  
“Oh please! Remember that time you told me to curl my spine more while using the Beast technique? I couldn't stand up straight for a week!”  
  
“It was _not_ a full week! It was... Well, it was only five days, and you were being melodramatic on purpose!”  
  
Much as Lloyd might've wanted to protest further, he'd become distracted. Yuan couldn't blame him, as he was guilty of the exact same thing. By their side, Kratos had begun to _laugh_. It was a soft, restrained sort of amusement. Even so, it was _there_.  
  
“Nice to know that my suffering is funny to you,” Lloyd grumbled, though he wasn't entirely serious about it.  
  
Kratos shook his head, his lips still curled. “Not at all. It's merely... _striking_ to hear you two bickering just as you would've done a hundred years ago.”  
  
“Hey! Are you saying I haven't grown up one bit?” Lloyd asked.  
  
“Maturity has very little to do with it. Just look at Yuan.” Kratos waved a hand in his direction and Yuan, in turn, scowled. “Regardless, I don't think I would've wished for you to behave any other way. Your impulsive, hot-headed personality is what defines you,” he continued.  
  
“Hah, then you didn't need to worry about Yuan rubbing off on me while you were away. He's impulsive and hot-headed too.”  
  
“ _Enough_ already!” Yuan snapped at the both of them, his pride getting more and more dented by the second.  
  
While Kratos looked genuinely apologetic, Lloyd merely shrugged it off and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. The two of them approached the bench and Yuan, in turn, slid himself all the way to the side to make room for them. As Lloyd was the one to take a seat first, he ended up with the honor of being positioned in the middle, while Kratos was forced to settle for the other side of the bench. Yuan wondered vaguely whether he was the only one who saw a problem with that, then dismissed the notion as childish. Noishe wandered into his stable and dropped himself upon a mound of straw.  
  
“Hey Kratos... Do you think...” Lloyd trailed off for a moment and Yuan saw the man's hands fidget in his lap. “I mean... If it's not too painful, do you think you could tell me about... Mom?”  
  
It was a very dangerous question to ask, in Yuan's opinion. He leaned forward in his seat somewhat to try and assess Kratos's expression, but as usual, it was unreadable; shrouded behind a curtain of auburn and deadpan.  
  
“Has Yuan never told you anything?” was the parrying query.  
  
“No- Well, I mean... Sure, he told me what he knows, but...”  
  
But it wasn't much. Yuan would admit that much to anyone who'd ask. He knew the basics; her name, her position within the human ranch, some shreds of her personality... It wasn't the same as _knowing_ a person. He'd never wanted to meet Anna, because in his mind, she'd always been a rather disruptive factor. She'd been the person to snatch Kratos away from Cruxis where _he_ had failed, distracting him with trivial things such as building a family when he could've been actively searching for a way to reunite the two worlds.  
  
Good as she might've been to Kratos, Yuan had only ever viewed Anna Aurion as a nuisance. In hindsight, he realized he should've given her a more fair chance.  
  
“What Lloyd means to say is that he wants to hear stories from _you_ ,” he said. “Stories that only her husband and the father of her child would know.”  
  
Kratos's reply was a very timid, conflicted “Oh...”  
  
“You don't have to if you don't want to, though!” Lloyd added hastily. “It's probably awful to think about, right? And it's not like we don't have enough time ahead of us, so...”  
  
“No, that's fine. It's _fine_. If you wish to know more, then... I will tell you,” said Kratos, though his gaze was on the ground as opposed to his own son.  
  
“Right. I'll go and sweep the kitchen, then,” Yuan decided. Three was a crowd, he felt, and so he was very much willing to scatter some dirt across the kitchen floor, if only to strengthen his excuse for a hasty escape.  
  
As soon as he got up from the bench, Lloyd sent a confused expression his way, along with an unwarranted comment. “Ah? You don't need to go.”  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
Despite how much Kratos might've wanted him to, Yuan couldn't keep holding his hand through these sort of situations. The rift that had grown between Lloyd and his father was for _them_ to close. The most Yuan could do was hope that they would succeed, as the uncomfortable tensions around the house were becoming a bit too much to bear.  
  
\------  
  
Weeks turned to months and as they did, Kratos's recovery proceeded much in a way Yuan would've expected it to; with highs and lows. There were times when his old friend would slip his way back down a slippery slope, only to clamber back upwards with some firm encouragement from Yuan. That was fine. Deep wounds could never heal overnight, nor even within a year.  
  
As Kratos slowly mended himself, so too did he mend his relationship with Lloyd. They would gaze up at the stars at night, go hunting during the day, take Lloyd's boat out onto the lake... A particular high note came when Kratos agreed to pay a visit to the Sage siblings. Yuan promptly insisted that the invitation didn't apply to him and that he had better things to do. He would hate to be the one to intrude on an old companionship, along with fond memories of the Journey of Regeneration.  
  
If Kratos were hurt by the gesture, he didn't show it. In all honesty, Yuan didn't think he would have any _right_ to be. Distancing himself from the rest of the group was something Yuan had done for his entire lifetime and it had never been an act directed at anyone personally. Peace and quiet were simply a great priority, especially when harboring a feeling that his presence wasn't welcome regardless of how hard he might attempt to fit in.  
  
What mattered most was that whenever Kratos returned from some fresh air and socializing, Yuan was already waiting for him. At times, the two of them would sleep peacefully, side by side. At other times, Kratos would slip out of bed to sit on the balcony and Yuan would join him. Not a word would be spoken, though Yuan supposed that after so many years, the wells of small talk had run dry. There was no need for words either way; that wasn't what their companionship was about.  
  
At last came the day when it was time to get out of Lloyd's hair, or so Yuan had phrased it. They couldn't have stayed with the man forever, as it would've inevitably turned uncomfortable. Yuan had his own home waiting for him and Kratos, in turn, had opted to join him there.  
  
“You can come visit whenever you want, Dad,” Lloyd was saying once all their bags had been packed. “Especially if you need to get away from Yuan for a while.”  
  
“ _Or_ ,” Yuan interjected loudly, “I can just change my mind and leave him here with you.”  
  
Lloyd waved a hand and reached for Kratos's backpack, handing it to him. “No, no! It's time for you _both_ to move out- And I can't believe I'm saying to this to my own dad and my... uh... my second foster-dad, or weird uncle, or whatever you are.”  
  
From the corner of his eye, Yuan noted that Kratos was stifling something of a smirk. Even if it was at his own expense, he thought it was a good sign. They'd come a long way in a few months' time, hadn't they? At this rate, Kratos might return to his usual self soon enough.  
  
“I would sooner lean towards 'weird uncle' if it means your stupidity is not my responsibility,” Yuan said.  
  
Lloyd guffawed and ran a hand along the back of his head, causing his hair to spike up even more than usual. “Weird uncle it is.”  
  
“Thank you for your hospitality, Lloyd,” Kratos chimed in. Yuan couldn't fathom why this was being said beyond courtesy, as Kratos had already thanked Lloyd plenty over the past few months. Not only that; they'd carried their own weight by doing chores so as not to be an inconvenience. If anything, Lloyd should be the one to thank _them_.  
  
“If you decide you want Noishe living at your place, just say the word. He was yours long before he was mine,” said Lloyd.  
  
“And keep having to clean out his stable?” Yuan huffed. “No, thank you.”  
  
“What Yuan _means_ to say is that we trust you'll care for him just as well as you always have,” Kratos remarked, which was a very bold assumption to make. Either that, or it was a bluff. A moment of silence, then Kratos's rare sense of misplaced humor made its way to the surface. “Aside from which, looking after Yuan is more than enough of a chore for me.”  
  
“ _Hey_!”  
  
Yuan's protest was barely heard through Lloyd's laughter.  
  
\------  
  
Five hundred years had passed since Kratos's return and in that time, the world had changed drastically. With the growth of the new World Tree and the now seamless mingling of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla came evolution. Technology had grown to serve even more uses and new cities had been born where others had fallen. As a result of Ratatosk's tampering with the mana flow, several Summon Spirits had moved away from their old homes and settled down elsewhere, causing environmental changes. Slowly but surely, their world was becoming unrecognizable.  
  
Despite the Church of Martel still being a constant presence, Cruxis's absence allowed for the birth of new religions. Religions dedicated to the faux gods Odin, Thor and Fenrir, which gained more influence by the day. The last remaining seraphim stood back and allowed it to happen, as it was not their place to interfere with civilization's development. So long as these factions were not at war with one another, there was no harm to be found in it.  
  
One of the things that hadn't changed, much as Yuan had expected it to, was Derris-Kharlan's blessing. Every century, without fail, the comet would pass them and an amount of mana would travel to their land. Whether that amount was dwindling or not, Yuan found hard to say. _He_ thought that it did, but the first four times, Kratos didn't seem to notice any difference.  
  
When Derris-Kharlan's fifth visit since the man's departure arrived, all that changed, for the difference was there without a doubt. What little mana began to seep down to their planet felt hampered and _wrong_. Norn's influence must've brought change in motion and with change came unease.  
  
“We ought to go see Martel again,” Yuan insisted for what must've been the third time in the past day alone. His eyes strayed up towards the purple sky and he wondered just what the situation on Derris-Kharlan was like. Martel had been unable to give them any answers yesterday, but perhaps she had learned something new since then.  
  
“It would be a waste of time,” Kratos reasoned in turn. “We did not truly need that blessing, did we? The world... It is doing just fine while limited to the support of our own World Tree. Once Ratatosk finishes his ritual, mana will have no bearing on life regardless.”  
  
“That's another four hundred years away, Kratos!” Yuan heard himself snap. It wasn't until he'd whirled himself away from the window that he spotted his companion's somber expression. It was Kratos who'd released Norn and so, without a doubt, any changes she'd made to Derris-Kharlan's mana flow were _his_ responsibility. Knowing that much, Yuan made a second attempt to voice his worries without shifting the blame. “... I just... wanted to be certain we would make it that far. Even if the world is doing just fine _now_ , it takes no more than a decade to construct a mana cannon and no more than five seconds for it to blast our precious resources into the void. Secluded as we may have kept her, Norn is not ignorant. She knows the dangers of mana depletion just as well as we do.”  
  
“Hmm...”  
  
Yuan finally strode over to the table and took a seat there, across from Kratos. “I suppose we'll just have to keep a closer eye on technological advancements from now on. Once something arises that may push the tree's limits, we can nip it in the bud.”  
  
Once he heard his own words out loud, he realized that this sort of talk was a bit too familiar and a bit too foreboding. Cruxis was gone now- it had been for centuries. They hadn't needed to interfere in all that time and it had been a welcome change for the both of them. Kratos's reaction said more than enough as well, for he'd turned even more glum than before.  
  
“We don't need to _hurt_ anyone,” Yuan added hastily. “It'll just be a bit of sabotage. We'll make the blueprints disappear or... Or remove a vital part when no one's looking. It's magitechnology, you know how fickle it is.”  
  
“Malfunctioning equipment will not remove a scientist's desire for progress, nor would some missing blueprints,” Kratos reasoned in turn.  
  
“Well... We'll think of something.”  
  
Civilization would keep on evolving, it was true. Without an organization like Cruxis to limit their progress through force- through _destruction_ \- it would be a matter of time before the same peak as five thousand years ago were reached. The solution could be as simple as a warning regarding the effects of magitechnology, but then, when had civilization ever heeded that for longer than a decade? Even once mana no longer had a bearing on life, wouldn't damage to Yggdrasill affect magic? And what of the Summon Spirits?  
  
Yuan was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden chill. A tug for his attention, much like a siren wailing in the distance. It was a _summons_. Martel required their presence and from the feel of it, it was urgent. He exchanged a quick glance with Kratos, who was already getting to his feet.  
  
\------  
  
The journey became a blur and before Yuan even truly knew what was happening, they were already approaching Yggdrasill's clearing. There didn't appear to be any damage in their surroundings, nor did anything feel particularly off. Though, in a way, the absence of danger was precisely what _made_ the situation feel off.  
  
Lloyd must've been summoned as well, for he was standing before the tree, looking anxious. He hadn't changed all too much in the past five hundred years, leaving Yuan to assume that after living a certain amount of time, one simply lost the motivation to try new styles.  
  
“Dad, Yuan, did you feel...?”  
  
“Yes. What's happened?” Yuan asked.  
  
“I don't know, I only just got here myself.”  
  
Martel appeared right on cue, materializing in her usual graceful manner. She was unharmed and Yuan felt himself breathe a sigh of relief because of it. While composed, something similar to concern could be read from the minor details of her face. Still sorely reminded of his lost fiancée, it was the sort of expression Yuan didn't like to see on her.  
  
“You've come,” she spoke.  
  
“We couldn't very well ignore a summons like that,” Yuan replied immediately. “Why did you call for us? Is something wrong?”  
  
“It's Norn.”  
  
“Norn?”  
  
“She has called out to me. Bound as we are through the Kharlan Trees, her voice came to me loud and clear. She seemed... distressed. She requires your aid.”  
  
Yuan's gaze strayed upward, taking in the purple hues of their neighboring comet. Was this why the blessing had been interrupted? Derris-Kharlan had been within communication range for two years already, so why had it taken so long for Norn to reach out to them? Was she so weak that this close proximity was the best distance she could manage? If so, that didn't bode well for anyone.  
  
“ _Our_ aid? What does she expect us to do?” Lloyd asked.  
  
“Norn has summoned Kratos, as well as Yuan, no one else,” Martel clarified. Much as that might've hurt Lloyd's pride, it made sense; unless Kratos told her, Norn wouldn't know that Lloyd existed. Even then, she couldn't know that Kratos's son was still alive after all these years.  
  
“Oh...” was Lloyd's dimmed response. “Should I send them up to Derris-Kharlan with the Eternal Sword? If we leave now, we can get both swords back here in a few hours' time, but...”  
  
“That isn't necessary. The route Kratos created five hundred years ago is still functional. Norn has just enough strength to teleport two people to Derris-Kharlan so long as my own power serves as the catalyst,” Martel said.  
  
Yuan grit his teeth and turned away. “Don't be ridiculous. We're not going up there. If we really don't need the blessing of mana, there's no reason for us to go out of our way.”  
  
“ _Yuan_ ,” came Kratos's warning tone of voice.  
  
“Derris-Kharlan is _not_ our problem anymore. We have our own world to look after now. You gave Norn the freedom she needed to govern that place herself and if she can't do it, the blame lies with her.”  
  
While Yuan made to leave, he felt a firm hand grab his shoulder. It'd been a long while since Kratos was last cross with him. Was that what made the man's attitude seem even fiercer? Regardless, the anger was so vivid that Yuan felt his defiance drain away in turn.  
  
“Have you forgotten in all convenience what we did to Derris-Kharlan for thousands of years? What we did to _Norn_? Those are _our_ people up there, Yuan- _Our_ legacy, whether we wish to acknowledge that part of our history or not. Turning our backs on these events now that Derris-Kharlan no longer serves a purpose is entirely too selfish.”  
  
“I didn't ask for a lecture, Kratos!” Yuan snapped, whirling around to glare this friend down. “I _know_ what's at stake! I also know what we stand to lose if we abandon this world, and I had hoped that by now you would understand that as well!”  
  
Kratos faltered, if only for a moment. Then he became bitter, if anything else. “I will go and help Norn. If you would prefer to stay behind and watch over all that we have here, that is your decision to make, just as it is my decision to leave.”  
  
“ _Damn_ it all, Kratos...! You know that's not fair!”  
  
The tension became thicker than the fog swirling about in the World Tree's sanctuary. Kratos didn't seem at all willing to give up on this stupid venture, but Yuan wasn't willing to stand down either. After what happened six hundred years ago, the thought of returning to Derris-Kharlan was ludicrous. It wasn't a matter of how many people were still alive up there, nor how much they were _owed_. It was a matter of leaving their home and their family behind yet again.  
  
“I think you should go,” was Lloyd's surprising opinion. Yuan turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him, which was all but waved away. “ _What_? We know now that there's a way back from Derris-Kharlan. And if Norn has enough power to take you up there, she'll have enough power to send you back once you've helped her. Even if you're not in time to return during this cycle, then... A hundred years from now, you can come back here for sure.”  
  
“Are you certain?” Yuan asked, as he'd known damn well just how badly Lloyd had taken Kratos's departure the last time.  
  
“Hey, what else have you been training me for? And I'm the hero who reunited the two worlds, remember? I can hold down the fort while you two go clean up the mess on Derris-Kharlan.”  
  
“Lloyd... Thank you,” Kratos said. He must've known damn well that Lloyd was ignoring the real issue of the matter on purpose, as he stepped towards his son to clap a hand against his shoulder. “I assure you, we will return as soon as possible.”  
  
“Tch, fine. We'll go,” Yuan grumbled. “But just remember that you didn't leave Derris-Kharlan on the best of terms. You'd better be prepared for what you're about to see.”  
  
The untrained eye wouldn't have spotted any reaction from Kratos, but Yuan was hardly untrained. He saw the minute muscle spasms in the man's face and knew what it meant. Whatever hurt Kratos was about to experience from revisiting Derris-Kharlan, he was willing to endure it.  
  
“Is there anything you guys need before you go?” Lloyd asked.  
  
“I believe we have all that we might need,” Kratos replied, which lined up well with Yuan's opinion. Their most important item on any excursion would always be their weapon, as they had no need for rations or camping gear, nor even healing gels. Kratos hesitated for a moment, then pulled Lloyd into a tight embrace. “We may breathe easy with the world in your capable hands. I'm proud of the man you've become.”  
  
Obviously taken aback by the sentiment, Lloyd patted his father's shoulders in the most awkward manner. “O-Oh... Thanks. Um. I'm glad I got to know you better.”  
  
“Just remember-”  
  
“That I shouldn't die before you do?”  
  
Kratos backed out of the embrace again, shaking his head. “No. That would be a selfish demand to make. I merely wish for you to live your life to the fullest, that is all.”  
  
Lloyd rubbed a finger beneath his nose and chuckled sheepishly, exposing the white of his teeth in a wide smile. Kratos had quite a fond, warm expression to his features as well.  
  
Yuan scoffed at the both of them, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping a foot against the ground. “What are you two getting all sentimental about?” he remarked loudly. “Didn't we _just_ say we'll be back here as soon as possible? And I expect you not to touch any of my things while I'm gone, Lloyd.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I'll miss you too, Yuan.”  
  
“Nobody said anything about-”  
  
“You didn't need to say it.”  
  
“Hmph.”  
  
With nothing left undone, they turned towards Martel and accepted their task. A glowing light enveloped them and when they were transported, it felt nothing like traversing the connection which had once existed between the Tower of Salvation and Derris-Kharlan. This particular connection came across as dizzying and haphazard, the difference much like a rocky dirt road versus a paved street. In a split second of horror, Yuan wondered whether they might not arrive at their destination at all.  
  
But they did.  
  
  
**To Be Continued**


	11. Chapter 11

Derris-Kharlan was flourishing; they noticed it from the moment they arrived. Behind them lay the crumbling ruins of Vinheim, a castle now lost to the ages. Above them, the sky was still a faint purple hue, swirling at a slower pace than Yuan remembered it doing. Before them lay _life_. Land connected Welgaia to the rest of the comet and sprouting from that very land were trees. Bushes. _Grass_.  
  
Kratos was left speechless, taking it all in with wide eyes. As for Yuan, he strode towards the nearest tree, pressing a hand against the bark and half expecting it to vanish. It didn't. It was _real_.  
  
“Norn... She really did it. She changed the laws of Derris-Kharlan,” he said quietly.  
  
“At this rate, it will become a traveling planet,” Kratos concluded, still looking awed. “It will play host to many different lifeforms- not only the half-elves we moved here. They were all given a fresh start. I would say... this is quite close to the world Mithos wished for.”  
  
“It won't be much of anything if Norn and her tree are harmed. We need to find her.”  
  
“ _Norn_!” Kratos called out. “We've arrived!”  
  
Nothing. The teleportation might've drained Norn of her energy and left her immobilized for a while. Yuan cast a glance around, attempting to envision Welgaia as it'd been so many centuries ago. Unfortunately, Norn's changes had affected the topographical as well. Their old capitol had been torn asunder and its scattered pieces had been swallowed up by the forest. The tree's enclosure must've moved, pushed out of its usual secluded corner.  
  
As a last-ditch effort, Yuan backtracked a few steps onto the old teleporter system and kicked his foot down. The stone, already cracked and worn, crumbled even further. It was a miracle that it'd still functioned at all.  
  
He sighed, then raised his head up to face this new world. “Well... Let's start walking.”  
  
So they did. They stepped through undergrowth which appeared as if it'd never been disturbed by any living being, and once they were a good distance away from Vinheim's old location, Yuan looked back to note that it was disappearing into a thick fog. Much like the protective spell around Yggdrasill, Vinheim's ruins were being hidden from unsuspecting eyes. He knew for certain that it wasn't Kratos's doing.  
  
Chatter was the last thing Yuan expected to hear, though when they reached some semblance of a city, it was that very sound to reach his ears. Some of Welgaia's remains had been used to construct something new, and within that new place, there were residents. Not only were they alive and well, they possessed personalities. Free _will_. They weren't lifeless beings, nor were they mere half-elves. In five hundred years, they had transformed to become something in-between.  
  
“I can't believe it...” Kratos muttered, watching them from afar.  
  
Yuan slapped a hand against his friend's shoulder. “You did it. You found a way to save those who'd signed their life away to Cruxis. If this is all Norn's doing, then releasing her was the right thing to do.”  
  
For a long moment, Kratos did nothing but stare at the ground. Then, finally, a smile dawned on his face and he leaned himself up against Yuan's arm. “... Thank you.”  
  
“Good. Now, I don't want to hear any 'I told you so's, because I don't think I'll be able to stand you _gloating_.”  
  
\------  
  
Norn's imprisonment had taken place so very long ago that Yuan could no longer remember just what the inside of her enclosure had looked like. As for the path which was meant to lead them there, it had distorted and _moved_ with Derris-Kharlan's changes of the past few centuries. Kratos had guided the way for most of the journey, even if he too had second-guessed their steps more than once.  
  
The outside of the enclosure already betrayed signs of damage, as parts of the outer wall had crumbled. However, the state of the building was not a recent change. Thick roots were emerging through the gaps, as was grass and an assortment of other flora, all spreading outward. The enclosure must've been broken a long time ago, perhaps when Norn had been granted her freedom. Kratos certainly didn't seem to think it was off, as he approached the door without even a second's delay. It opened just as smoothly as it would've when it'd first been built, allowing entry to Norn's most sacred domain.  
  
The Kharlan Tree lay before them, grander and healthier than any of its kind Yuan had ever seen before. There were no cracks in the bark, no broken branches, no discoloration in the leaves... Four thousand years of growing in peace, away from the harm Cruxis was causing on Derris-Kharlan, had allowed it to thrive beyond their wildest hopes.  
  
It begged the question of why Norn would require their help at all. Was she not powerful enough to settle her own problems?  
  
She remained absent from their surroundings and Yuan was just about to draw that very thing into question when he felt it. There was a different presence in the room, something borderline _demonic_. He whirled towards the source of it and by his side, Kratos did the exact same thing. For a split second, Yuan was fooled into thinking it was real and during that one second, his weapon appeared in his hand. It was the only logical thing to do when faced with the former leader of Cruxis.  
  
Mithos Yggdrasill.  
  
Yuan shook the belief off as quickly as it had come. There was no way Mithos- nor his form of Yggdrasill- could be standing here. It was a trick. Perhaps a remnant of another trap, but then, why would it affect Norn's habitat? How could an illusion of darkness exist so close to the Kharlan Tree? It shouldn't have been possible either.  
  
Regardless, the effect it had on Kratos was instantaneous. While Yuan's stance was offensive, his friend was on the defensive within a heartbeat. The strain on his muscles, visible to the eye, implied he was fighting not to outright _cower_ before Yggdrasill's patronizing expression, which was more smirk than anything else. Such a reaction didn't bode well for them, but then, what had Yuan done these past five hundred years if not attempt to boost his companion's confidence? To allow him to falter now would be to throw away all that hard work.  
  
“What is one of those filthy illusions doing all the way out here?” Yuan asked in somewhat of a growl. While he knew Mithos's traps targeted the mental as opposed to the physical state of their opponents, he didn't lower his weapon.  
  
“It's good to see you again, Yuan. I did not think you would ever return here,” Yggdrasill said to him. He ignored it.  
  
“If this is what's bothering Norn, it won't be easily disposed of,” he said to Kratos in turn. “We don't have the Derris Emblem. But... So long as we're outside the actual trap, we may still be able to access the Core System and disable the illusions from there.”  
  
Kratos didn't respond. His eyes were still on their former 'friend', who shook his head and tutted in the most demeaning of ways.  
  
“Kratos... Why are you allying yourself with such a pitiful traitor now? Have you forgotten all the times he's tried to end your life? Have you forgotten how he always mistreated you and attempted to get the best of you?”  
  
“No- No, no... It wasn't like that...” Kratos mumbled, raising a hand to his head. His mental state was going downhill fast, it seemed.  
  
“He claimed to love my sister, but when he was forced to choose between her life and the world's safety, he tossed her aside without looking back. What makes you think he will not do the same to you?”  
  
“Don't listen to him, Kratos!” Yuan yelled. “Martel was already dead! I didn't toss her aside; I chose to honor her memory, no matter how much it hurt to lose her. She wouldn't have wanted us to commit atrocities in her name.”  
  
“ _Excuses_ ,” Yggdrasill hissed in turn. “Nothing more than poor justification for his actions. Who was it who always welcomed you back with open arms, regardless of what you'd done? Who was it who always forgave you for your sins? How could you think, then, that Yuan cares more for you?”  
  
“I-I...”  
  
Yuan wrinkled his nose in disgust. Illusion or no illusion, Yggdrasill was as wretched as ever before, not to mention as manipulative. “Don't you see what he's doing? It's what he's always done! He's patronizing you! By forgiving your supposed sins, he made you believe that you were less than him when you were actually so much _more_! He should've been the one to beg _you_ for forgiveness!”  
  
Kratos still didn't budge. He simply cradled his head with both hands, looking as if he were about to crumble under the weight of Yggdrasill's presence. To make matters worse, the illusion took a step forward, its hand reaching for Kratos's shoulder. In reflex, Yuan made to stop it. He fully expected his fingers to pass through Yggdrasill's wrist, only to be proven wrong. As soon as he was holding something quite solid in the palm of his hand, he started and recoiled again.  
  
How could it have a physical presence? Mithos's illusions had never progressed beyond projections.  
  
“What the _hell_ is going on?!” he roared, in part frustrated and in part shocked. The thing he'd touched hadn't felt at all like human flesh, and yet... He'd held it all the same.  
  
“Why so surprised?” Yggdrasill asked him, and this time, the words felt more tangible than before. “Were you foolish enough to believe I was a mere trick of the light? You should have realized I would not perish so easily.”  
  
Yuan blinked, doubting his judgment for the briefest of moments. Then he remembered what Lloyd had told him about Mithos's final moments.  
  
“You _did_ perish. It was not easily, no, but you perished all the same. Your- No, _Mithos's_ Cruxis Crystal was destroyed and whatever was left of him chose to withdraw into the Great Seed. It was reborn along with the new World Tree. So whatever _you_ are, it's still nothing more than a cheap trick!”  
  
“Yuan...” he heard Kratos say by his side, so very quietly that he had to strain his hearing to even catch it.  
  
“I'll say it again if I have to! Mithos Yggdrasill is dead! And if something's trying to tell us otherwise, we'll just have to kill him all over again!”  
  
He raised his saber, poised to strike. The phantom shot him an unimpressed stare, then addressed his companion with the most sugarcoated of bitter words. “Are you going to stand by and let him do this, Kratos? You've already failed to protect me before. This is your last chance to make things right.”  
  
Kratos said nothing. He appeared as a machine which had stopped functioning, impeded in the most damaging of ways. Yuan moved to stand before him, saber in one hand and crackling lightning in the other. He was willing to do whatever it took to protect Kratos, even if it meant staining his hands with whatever sort of blood would flow from this fallacy. Perhaps it would be acid. He supposed he would find out soon enough, though for now he was content to wait and see whether this _thing_ would be wise enough to retreat.  
  
Several seconds passed in which no one moved. Then Yggdrasill attempted to raise a hand. Yuan didn't hesitate. His arm, already prepared to take the order, moved in an instant. The full blade of his saber plunged into Yggdrasill's torso and its tip protruded out through the phantom's back. Vaguely, he heard Kratos gasp behind him.  
  
There was no blood, nor acid. There was only a wide-eyed stare on a very familiar face. Yuan withdrew his saber, unnerved and unsure of what might happen next. A bit of darkness began to flow from Yggdrasill's chest wound and finally, Yuan could sense the black magic hidden within. Following that, the thing- whatever it was- fell. As soon as it hit the ground, it exploded into more tufts of darkness which scattered and vanished into thin air.  
  
“Good riddance,” was all Yuan could think to say.  
  
He turned to assess Kratos's situation, but found his attention immediately drawn to something _behind_ them. Lloyd was standing there, peering down at the place where Yggdrasill's body had fallen. He looked disappointed, if anything.  
  
“Yuan, what have you....? How could you?” Lloyd asked.  
  
Kratos whirled around at the sound of his son's voice, his complexion somehow managing to blanch even further than it already had. Once again, Yuan was inclined to believe his eyes and nothing more. Then he realized that it couldn't possibly be Lloyd. Norn had struggled to bring the two of them to Derris-Kharlan, after all. How could there possibly be a third passenger here now? How would Lloyd even have known where to go?  
  
“ _Another_ one?!” Yuan shouted. “How many of these things are there?!”  
  
“What are you talking about? What things?” Lloyd's imposter asked him. “How could you just kill Mithos like that, without even hearing what he had to say? Didn't I tell you that if I could've gotten another chance to face him, I would've tried to find another way?”  
  
“Lloyd, we-” Kratos began, but Yuan wouldn't hear of it.  
  
“ _Don't_. Don't entertain it. It's trying to trick us, just like that Yggdrasill puppet was doing before. There's dark magic at play- couldn't you sense it just now?”  
  
“But how can you know? Lloyd is... He's still _alive_ ,” Kratos said.  
  
Yuan grabbed hold of his friend's shoulder and shook it roughly. “Wake up, you idiot! Don't you remember? He's holding down the fort back home! He's doing so because we left the world in his capable hands! There's no way he would've given up on that responsibility to come chasing after us! We have to destroy this thing- there's no telling how much damage it's doing just by _existing_.”  
  
“I... I can't...”  
  
“But _I_ can!”  
  
Yuan rushed forward, weapon drawn, and not even Kratos's shout could cause a crack in his determination. Unlike Yggdrasill, however, this Lloyd imitation was prepared. It drew both swords and blocked with just as much dexterity as the real thing.  
  
“Stop it! Both of you!” Kratos called out. Yuan hoped he wouldn't interfere beyond hollow shouting, because if he had to face both of those stubborn Aurion idiots at the same time, he would surely lose.  
  
As it turned out, though, not even Kratos was foolish enough to try and defend the phantom pretending to be his son. Or perhaps the illusions, as well as the trauma associated with them, were still leaving him frozen. It didn't matter much to Yuan. All that mattered was that roughly a minute of clashing blades later, he managed an unhampered swipe at the pretender's head and took it clean off.  
  
Kratos outright screamed, this time.  
  
There was another explosion of pitch-black mist, which evaporated within seconds. In Lloyd's place, several more phantoms appeared all around them. They surrounded Kratos, each of them spouting words meant solely to have them lower their guard. Some were whispering, others were shouting. Nearly all of them were familiar faces. At this rate, there was no telling what they could do to Kratos. Or what they could have _him_ do.  
  
Yuan was getting fed up with this.  
  
He slashed his way through images of the past, noting how they all disappeared about a second after being hit. Most of them, he recognized, but not all of them. He saw Grand Cardinals, former Renegade lieutenants, Chosen Ones and royalty... Princess Soleile, Spiritua, Botta, Kvar, even Colette and Zelos made an appearance. All of them were fake and all of them went down easy.  
  
Something stirred behind him and he turned round, ready to strike down whatever had appeared next, only to stop cold. _Martel_. It was not the Summon Spirit, it was _her_ , just as she'd looked before her death. Despite the warm smile on her lips, her eyes were sad. Despite almost five thousand years of her absence, he realized that he _recognized_ that look on her face. He remembered it.  
  
“Yuan... What are you doing?” she asked.  
  
“Y-You... You're not real,” he sputtered in turn.  
  
“How can you tell?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and while she pushed him in a gentle manner, her fingers did not retreat. “Is this not real to you?”  
  
He backed out of her hold. “You're just some fabrication, like all the others!”  
  
She blinked in the most innocent of manners. His muscles protesting just a bit, he raised his saber, holding the blade's edge mere inches from her throat. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to go any further. From her soft hair to her full lips to her vivid eyes... Those eyes that he still knew so well. How could she be a fabrication? She looked disappointed in him.  
  
“Just stop and take a look at what you're doing... Hasn't the fighting gone on for too long already?” she asked. “We wanted to end the war, and we succeeded. I'm at peace now. Isn't it time for you to rest as well, Yuan?”  
  
His breath stopped in the back of his throat. _Wasn't_ it time to rest? He'd been living for so long already. What was it all for, again? Martel placed a finger against the tip of his blade and pushed it away from her throat. In doing so, the other end of his saber moved closer to his abdomen. He barely noticed it. He couldn't look away from her face, nor could he listen to anything but her voice.  
  
“There's no shame in giving in to death. I know that it must seem scary to you, but it's not that bad. We are all destined to pass on, anyway,” she told him. That made perfect sense.  
  
The moment was suddenly interrupted. Kratos had sprung into action at last, and what an action it was. His sword slashed at Martel's side, hacking through her belly and her hip. She stood perfectly still for a second, then vanished just as every other enemy had.  
  
“Kratos...”  
  
“Weren't you the one who said that once you die, there's no going back?” his friend asked in a low rumble. “Weren't you the one who said we still have responsibilities to tend to? You can't possibly believe now that it's time to rest.”  
  
Yuan drew a deep breath, then forced something of a smile. “Just this once, you're right. Sorry about that.”  
  
Together, they raised their weapons to finish what was left of the battle.  
  
Just as the last remaining phantom fell, _she_ appeared. Her white wings were enormous, as was her dress. Had she always been this _big_? Dark green eyes settled on Yuan for but the briefest of moments, then moved to Kratos, who had already sank down onto one knee, his head bowed. Yuan hesitated, then decided to follow his example, if only because the spirit's mere presence was enough to make him feel humbled. He knew, though, that he would show disrespect before her soon enough.  
  
“Norn. We have come to your aid.” Kratos's voice withheld even more emotion than usual, nothing more than a husky monotone.  
  
“I welcome you back to Derris-Kharlan, Kratos, as well as your companion,” she replied.  
  
Taking note of how she'd avoided Kratos's words, Yuan raised his head to look her directly in the eyes. They held the look of someone who was peering down at a mere insect. Infuriated, he decided there was no point beating around the bush. “Those phantoms were your doing. They were created by _your_ hand,” he said, refusing to even voice those suspicions as a question. It was fact.  
  
Kratos drew in a deep breath by his side, but didn't interrupt. Neither did Norn, for that matter. She neither confirmed nor denied it, instead continuing to stare him down. Silence in the face of an accusation was as good as admitting guilt.  
  
Yuan rose to his feet, his anger building inside him. “It was never Mithos, it was _you_! When Kratos was here by himself, attempting to clean up the mess Cruxis had made, _you_ were the one who used those illusions to mess with his head! And you got exactly what you wanted! Kratos gave up on this place and instead allowed _you_ to do as you pleased with it!”  
  
“Do you believe me to be the villain of this tale, Yuan? Do you believe I would forgive so easily in the face of so much wrongdoing?” Norn's tone was somewhere between curt and venomous. Her eyes narrowed as she continued. “Derris-Kharlan has regained its glory now that I reign. That life out there could not have been possible, had I remained within the prison that you and your accomplices crafted for me. It was Cruxis who restrained me by force, and so, it was Cruxis who would be punished.”  
  
“You... You were only ever using me?” Kratos asked in a whisper, still kneeling upon the soft grass. His sword, lying sideways across his lap, trembled in the hold of his right hand.  
  
“I was bestowing upon you the judgment that no one else would,” she replied. “And you would do well to remember that had there been no sins in your past, there would have been no weakness for my phantoms to target. You brought that torment upon yourself, Kratos Aurion.”  
  
“Don't listen to her,” Yuan snapped immediately. He grabbed Kratos's upper arm and pulled him to his feet. “If she went through the trouble of bringing us back here, she must want something from us. We're not going to give it to her after such a tasteless reception. We're leaving.”  
  
Norn cocked her head to the side. “You will find that departure from this place is impossible. You are in my domain now.”  
  
“You-”  
  
“-And as for _wanting_ something from you, it is not something you may choose to give. I was testing you, Yuan Ka-Fai, just as I was testing your companion.”  
  
“Testing? By sending those ridiculous ghosts at us? What sort of test was that?!” Yuan shouted at her.  
  
“I wished to see whether you had grown. Whether you were worthy of continuing to live after all that you have already done wrong in the past. I am afraid that... nothing has changed.”  
  
“Excuse me?!”  
  
“You in particular, Yuan, failed the test spectacularly. When faced with the mistakes of your past, you were the first to draw your weapon and solve the matter with violence. You did not speak directly to the phantoms, you did not even acknowledge their words-”  
  
“Because they were _fake_!”  
  
“-And they would have responded as if they were real,” Norn insisted, her words cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. “As for Kratos, he was initially humbled, only to resort to his sword after all.”  
  
“Your stupid test was rigged! If we hadn't fought, they would have _killed_ us! This was a set-up right from the start!”  
  
“Simply because they held a physical form and looked down on you, you believe they would be interested in taking your life. Do you fail to see what sort of damage your mistaken assumption would do? However, believe my words when I say that I intend to do just what you presume. In order for Derris-Kharlan to truly be free, your legacy must come to an end. My judgment is absolute.”  
  
Yuan had already begun to raise his weapon before Norn could even finish that last sentence. Even so, he was caught off guard by what happened next. The ground shook, not with a mere tremor but with a _tearing_ motion. The beautiful grass was upturned to reveal the soil beneath as several large roots rose to the surface, lashing at their surroundings. Yuan leaped upwards to avoid being hit and knew immediately that he'd made a mistake, for he saw Kratos fall from the corner of his eye. A root had wrapped itself around the man's ankles and pulled him off his feet, leaving him defenseless.  
  
But Yuan would have none of that.  
  
His wings emerged and he shot back downward, his weapon making contact before he himself could even touch the ground. The root around Kratos's ankles was severed harshly, but even so, he didn't get up. All that had occurred had left him stunned and while Yuan sympathized, there was no time to waste on sentimentalism.  
  
“ _Kratos_! Get up! We have to fight!” he barked even as he deflected another whipping root with his saber.  
  
“But-”  
  
“No buts! She's determined to kill us and that means we need to weaken her enough to get out of here! Lloyd is waiting for us!”  
  
If there was still one sentiment to get through to Kratos, it was that. His sword was raised just in time to hack at an incoming attack and one second later, he was already back on his feet. Wings to match Yuan's own appeared on Kratos's back as he braced himself. Norn hovered a short distance away, roughly ten feet above the ground, her gaze dark enough to be certain she would show no mercy.  
  
So they fought.  
  
They cut down a few more roots and branches, not knowing whether they were causing harm to the Kharlan Tree by doing so, nor even knowing whether they were causing damage in general. Norn herself joined the battle on a more personal level soon enough, casting spell after spell, their effects only barely avoided. Every so often, either he or Kratos would take a hit, only to shake it off and keep fighting. Two of the Four Seraphim would not go down so easily, nor would two of the Four Kharlan Heroes. Unfortunately, it seemed as if Norn herself was barely fazed by their counterattacks.  
  
As they fought, Yuan's stray thoughts focused themselves on the world they had left behind- the world they had to _return_ to. They couldn't fall here. It just wouldn't be right. No matter what Norn believed she had proven with her little 'test', they had a responsibility to protect their home and if they didn't, who _would_? Martel needed them. _Lloyd_ needed them.  
  
So hard had Yuan focused on what was waiting for them, he'd neglected to focus on what was right beside him. He hadn't noticed the incoming attack until it had already shot past him and hit a different target. A cry of pain echoed through the chamber and while Yuan had turned his head so fast that his neck ached, he still hadn't been fast enough to see exactly what had happened. All he knew was that Kratos had hit a distant wall and was now dropping to the ground, sword slipping from his hand and head lolling forward. Shining blue wings flickered, then disappeared. His partner wasn't dead, but even so, Yuan could tell that something was _wrong_.  
  
What came next was part strategic, part instinct. Yuan turned his attention back to Norn and fired several jolts of lightning her way. The blasts surrounded her, _caging_ her. She could not be allowed to act, for if she were, she would take advantage of Kratos's fallen guard to finish him off. Yuan's magic wouldn't hold her for a very long time though, which was part of the reason why he zoomed to Kratos's side as soon as he was able, landing in half a crouch, half a kneel.  
  
“Damn! Kratos- Are you...?” Finishing the rest of the question seemed completely without a point, so Yuan let it be and instead put his energy to better use.  
  
Kratos was still awake, his eyes scrunched shut with dismay. A trickle of blood ran down his face, as well as his throat. There were several gashes in his clothes, several bruises already beginning to form from blows taken earlier on. Yuan couldn't help but think it was all very superficial and the sort of thing Kratos could heal with his own strength, but if that was the case, why _wouldn't_ he? What was that odd feeling in the air? It was almost like mana, but not quite.  
  
His heart skipped a beat when he saw it. While still falling into the superficial damage category, it was not the sort of problem that could be solved with healing magic. No, it was the sort of problem to stir hysteria, because it felt quite permanent and even more damning. A crack had appeared in Kratos's Cruxis Crystal, splitting it almost right down the middle.  
  
“Shit- No! This can't...!”  
  
Yuan made a grab for the man's left hand, pulling it up to his face to assess the damage. There was nothing the closer inspection could tell him that he didn't already know, nor could it answer any of the questions that he had. Research on Cruxis Crystals- or High Exspheres- had always been limited. All Yuan knew for certain was that the gem was damn important, tied directly to the mana flow and bodily functions. Whether or not there was a Key Crest to keep everything in check made little difference right now. Kratos's very being was contained within that one cracked crystal.  
  
Never before had a single life seemed so fragile.  
  
Kratos must've known that as well, as his gaze shot towards the very same trouble Yuan was still inspecting and his eyes widened with dread. If he hadn't noticed the extent of the damage before, there was no avoiding it now. He drew the oddest squeak of a breath before speaking. “Yuan...”  
  
“It... It'll be okay. Lloyd has dwarven knowledge. He can fix this. Once we get out of here, I'll take you straight to him.”  
  
“I can... still fight.”  
  
“No! Don't move! Don't do _anything_. I'll take it from here.”  
  
“Yuan-”  
  
“ _Don't move_! Just wait for me here- A-And use a Guardian technique to shield yourself. Remember, you're not allowed to die before I do!”  
  
Norn was breaking free from the restraints of lightning magic; his gaze had already strayed towards her to note just that, despite wanting to keep his attention on Kratos. She was preparing to attack, and so, time was a luxury they could no longer afford. Yuan sped towards her, weapon drawn, to try and land the first blow. The lightning vanished just before the edge of his blade could reach her throat and so, the blade was blocked altogether with a dome of light.  
  
A Summon Spirit was truly a formidable foe. After so many millennia, Yuan had forgotten how many tricks they had up their sleeves. Even worse still, spirits such as Maxwell and Origin were nothing compared to Norn. So long as her tree thrived, she could draw endless power and now that Kratos was out for the count, the attack force Yuan could employ against her had been halved. There was no one to draw Norn's fire, nor anyone to buy him some time to prepare grander attacks. All he could do now was barrage her with a stream of faster attacks, hoping that at least a few would hit their marks.  
  
He was running out of energy. With every strike he dealt, he began to feel more drained and with every hit he took, it took him just a fraction of a second longer to recover. Before long, a Stone Blast spell knocked him out of the air and his shoulders hit the ground first. He raised his saber over his chest with both hands and right on cue, Norn appeared above him, her enormous wings blocking out most sources of light. _Most_ , but not all. Even as Yuan erected a Guardian shield to defend himself from whatever Norn might do next, there was another glow just within his field of vision.  
  
Kratos had gotten back to his feet and even though he was holding himself upright with obvious difficulty, he was casting a spell. Judging by the glyph, it was sure to be a big one. An _angel_ spell.  
  
That _bastard_.  
  
Now fending off Norn's staff, Yuan couldn't do much more than crane his head sideways to chew Kratos out. “ _Stop_ that! I told you not to move! It's too dangerous!”  
  
Kratos didn't stop. An overwhelming shudder of energy took to the air- far more than Yuan was used to feeling from this sort of magic. Knowing that wasn't a good sign, he was hit with a rush of panic. Why couldn't Kratos ever just _listen_ to him? Why did he always have to put everyone else's life before his own? _Why_?!  
  
Even through the haze, his hearing picked up on Kratos's murmurs just fine. “Sacred powers, cast t-thy... purifying light upon these corrupt souls... Rest in pe-peace, sinners...”  
  
Those were the last words to be spoken. Norn had vanished, apparently deciding that Yuan was no longer worthy of her attention, and had instead teleported elsewhere. Blind fear struck with such fortitude that time seemed to stand still. If only it had. As soon as Yuan had turned his gaze from where Norn had been to where she was _now_ , it was already too late. Her staff had been jammed straight through Kratos's chest from behind.  
  
The image burned itself into Yuan's mind, but even so, it refused to register as something that had truly happened. All consequences were lost to consideration for now.  
  
The glyph disappeared, as did all the energy which had been flowing from it. Kratos's eyes widened, then rolled upwards. A modest amount of crimson trailed down from the staff, staining his shirt. It wasn't until Norn yanked her weapon back out that the blood _truly_ began to stream. Kratos was dropped to the ground as if he were nothing and he remained there, unmoving. Only at that point in time did Yuan start back into awareness of the situation. A scream escaped him, he was sure, but he was so focused on scrambling up into a crouch that he had no idea just what sort of word had left him, if indeed it _had_ been something as coherent as a word. All he could think to do now was to get to Kratos's side before any more damage could be done.  
  
Even _that_ was a lost cause.  
  
Norn had already reached down to take Kratos's left hand, cupping it with both of her own. A sudden burst of light escaped from between her fingers. This time, not a single sound managed to pass Yuan's lips despite how much he wanted it to. She couldn't have- She _wouldn't_ have-  
  
When Norn's hand released Kratos's again, the Key Crest was empty and miniature shards took to the air. They glowed an eerily beautiful blue color. Something inside Yuan broke at the sight of it. Something which was buried so very deeply within his being, it must've been connected to every vital function he had, for he could no longer tell whether he was warm or cold. He could no longer smell the grass, nor the blood. He could no longer feel the metal of his blade in one hand, nor the fabric of his pants, which was being tugged at by the fingers of his other hand. His vision became clouded, but it wasn't until he blinked that he realized it was due to tears building up in his eyes. He didn't even know whether he was still breathing by this point.  
  
He waited, for he had no clue what would happen now. Five seconds passed, then six, then what might've been an incredible amount more. No longer sustained by the Cruxis Crystal after all these years, Kratos's body disappeared and became mana, which in turn was absorbed by Norn's tree. When it was all over, it was as if Yuan's closest companion had never been there at all. As if he'd been nothing more than another one of Norn's phantoms. More than four thousand years of friendship and care were all gone. Lloyd's father was gone. One of the greatest swordsmen the world had ever seen had been erased from existence just like that.  
  
Yuan had never felt more alone than he did at that very moment.  
  
“Be at peace, Kratos Aurion. Your passing will pave the road to a new future,” Norn remarked with a calm that was so out of place, it kickstarted Yuan's fury right back to life.  
  
He stood, gripping his weapon so tightly that it shook in his hand. “How _dare_ you...” he growled. “How _dare_ you end a life and act as if- As if you've done the world a _favor_?!”  
  
“Is that not what you have done for countless years, Yuan Ka-Fai?” Norn asked in turn.  
  
His own hypocrisy was like a dagger to the chest, but such a thing no longer mattered. It wasn't about him. This fight was so much bigger than that. He couldn't let Norn get away with this horrific crime. She could prattle about judgment and tests all she wanted, but nothing would ever justify what she'd done. He had beat her down until she saw that. Kratos's death couldn't be in vain.  
  
So he charged right back into battle, determined to finish what they'd started.  
  
As it turned out, grief and anger were not the sort of emotions to strengthen a warrior. They made Yuan reckless, blinding him to oncoming attacks. He took blow after blow while failing to land any counterattacks of his own. So numb to the physical pain was he that he didn't realize just how badly wounded he'd become until the blood was streaming into his eyes. Wiping it from his face did nothing but ensure that his fingers became slippery, making it that much more difficult to keep a firm hold on his weapon. Even then, he didn't falter. He tried again and again to charge at Norn. He wished for nothing more than to cause her pain- to make her _pay_ for what she'd done.  
  
Not until his legs failed to carry him any further and instead forced him to topple to the ground did he come to terms with the situation. He had lost. There was nothing more to be done, not for Kratos nor _to_ Norn. It was all over.  
  
He rolled himself onto his back and she towered over him, her green eyes narrowing. She didn't spare any more words on him. She didn't even put him out of his misery. After his body disappeared, she left his Cruxis Crystal where it was, his soul imprisoned indefinitely.  
  
\------  
  
Dhaos, the Prince of Elysium, had never truly questioned the gem he'd come across when visiting the Kharlan Tree of his home world. He'd merely acknowledged the power contained within- a power which would serve him well when traveling to Aselia. With no idea what he would find there and every hope of saving Derris-Kharlan, it was best to be prepared.  
  
When he assessed the harm caused to Yggdrasill, he didn't question the grief taking form within him, nor the _contempt_. When he failed to save the tree through diplomacy, he didn't question the voice which began to speak to him, encouraging him to wage war against the humans who would use magitechnology so foolishly.  
  
It was impossible for Dhaos to fathom the source of such raw, unbridled resentment.  
  
  
 **The End**


End file.
